Substitute Soul 2: Divergence
by ImmaLynx
Summary: Sequel to SS:Deliverance. It's not easy losing everything you once held dear. In one fateful night I lost my identity, my past, my hope, and my freedom. Now I drift, no longer knowing which way is wrong or right, just knowing that when the time comes, I will have to choose, and that just might mean the end of me or all of Amestris. Bottoms up. [Moving to AO3 @Lynnxrider C U there]
1. Prologue

**Substitute Soul Book 2: Divergence**

 **Preface**

 _What does it mean to have a name? Is it who you are? Is it the hopes of your parents? The longer you live, does your name become your identity? Can you still claim that name when you have changed completely and utterly, so that no one would recognize you, not even yourself? I had a name once. I'm not sure if I have a right to it anymore…_

 _–Nameless_

Glimmering city lights stood like sparkling jewels against the silver night. Rain had come and gone, so the roofs gleamed with the reflection of the pale moon, setting everything not touched by the fire of the street lamps in an ethereal glow. Peace reigned over the city this night, its victorian buildings dark and quiet as the occupants slept, unaware of the dark secret beneath the ground that might just destroy them forever…

I sat upon a slanted roof, just slightly taller than the buildings around it. Energy hummed through my body, but I felt no urge to move at all, content to just sit and observe the city around me. I crouched upon the edge comfortably with no fear of the steep fall inches from my feet that would kill anyone else. I sat on one leg, the other dangling over open space, a hand slung over my knee and the other resting lightly on the damp roof beside me.

A warm spring breeze filtered through the streets, not quite enough to stave off the slight chill in the air. Though my clothes were light, I did not experience any discomfort in the damp cold. I was dressed entirely in black, pants hugging my slim hips and covering my long legs before banding tightly around my ankles. A pitch black shirt, so different from the bright colors I used to love wearing, clung to my hard core and chest and tapered to a small band of cloth that wound around my neck, leaving my wide shoulders completely exposed. I had a slight urge, as always, to lift one of my hands and rub the right side of my neck, feeling the slightly raised ridges of the cloth covered mark that branded me as what I was, but I resisted it easily. It had been a while after all…Instead I let my long blonde hair, bound low, to rest against my shoulder, where I habitually wore it. A loose lock fluttered slightly in the breeze, tickling my exposed skin, and I brushed it aside absently.

I took a deep breath of the pale night's air, momentarily reveling in the openness of it, the realness. It had been so long since I'd felt the gentle touch of the wind or seen the elegant glow of the moon, so long since I'd been allowed to. But it's the city that keeps my attention. Central City, the capital of the country of Amestris…It wasn't my home, not really. I had no home, haven't for years, but it's…familiar. Comfortingly so, despite what I knew would happen to it eventually. That time wasn't now…now was quiet. Calm.

Inside of me, I felt a deep contentment that sang in my blood, my heart thrumming with the power embedded in me. Vaguely I can feel the gentle hum of the lives of the city's people, the sense that I acquired recently so much more powerful than ever. But I have learned to suppress it so that it's no longer painful to feel so many souls…after all, the _thing_ within me was a strict and merciless teacher…

"How does it feel?" A soft voice filters through the night air like silk over bare skin, and I shiver slightly. I was not alone. I'm _never_ alone…I turned around slowly, my red-violet eyes flashing briefly in the moonlight, and regarded my companion. She was a beautiful sight, sitting languidly on the apex of the roof, resting gracefully against a chimney pipe. She also wore black, a onyx dress that clung to her form like a second skin. It clothed her from her delicate ankles, over soft curves and up to her generous bust, just barely covered enough to be decent. Like mine her slim shoulders are also bare, pale skin glowing silver in the wan light, but unlike me she did not hide her mark, allowing it to face the world openly where it rested upon her chest. The ouroboros, red as blood, seemed almost black in the wee hours of the morning. She, after all, had made peace with what we are long ago…Her head was tilted back, long black hair falling in waves to her waist, red lips tilted in a small smile as she regarded me with eyes that mirrored my own.

For a brief moment, I had a flashback of another rooftop in Central, except back then I was with someone very different. He was a warm, comforting presence as compared to this woman who…well, I didn't know how I felt about her anymore. I smiled slightly at the irony that on the night I just recalled I was reminded of my humanity. And this night…this night there was no humanity to be found.

I turn back to the city with a pang of longing, the memory of that night–and the boy I was with–briefly resurfacing some of the resentment and pain I had been suppressing. Truth, how I missed him, missed _them._

How I loved them, and loathed them.

"How does what feel?" I asked softly, my husky voice nearly a whisper.

I can feel her grin burning in the back of my skin like a second sense, so aware was I of this woman. My savior. My tormentress. "Freedom," she said, smugness dripping from the word.

I hummed derisively, the sound a deep rumble in my chest. Freedom? From what?

My identity? That had been lost when Truth, the self proclaimed god of alchemy, showed me the utter and complete destruction of everything I had ever loved in my past life. He showed me that there was no escape from the reality I now found myself in, no going back. He had stolen the hope that had been keeping me going since I was conceived in this world. Now it was gone, along with the dream of what could have been.

Freedom from the bonds of love? I was so close to those I called family in this world, only a few streets away, and yet so irrevocably and desperately far. I was so far from what I used to be to them that I don't think I could ever bear to be in their presence again, lest I taint them. And yet a resentment so powerful rested within me like a poison towards them that I wanted to find those that did this to me and take from them what they took from me. The forgiveness I once felt for their actions could no longer protect me from this hatred once I knew the truth…

Freedom from humanity? Yes, I suppose I was free of that. The warm thrumming stone in my chest and the power that could surge through me at a moment's notice was proof enough of that. The red-violet shade of my eyes, once a vibrant green, and my ability to peer into the souls of others were curses upon me that would set me apart from humanity forevermore, or for however long this unnatural body would hold me to this world…

So yes, I guess I was free, in a sense. I was free from everything I once was, and all that was left was…I don't even know. I was once known by my lover as Alexandria, a soon to be mother and wife, but that was entirely in irrevocably gone. I was once known as Alex Elric, a brother to the boys who spirited my soul to this world by accident, unintentionally destroying both their lives and mine, and also the boys who adopted me, loved me, and corrupted me. That was also gone in a flash of agony and red, red light, and a terrible truth. I am now known as 'Empathy' by my companion–my tormentor, my savior, my Lust– and the others like us, but that name means nothing to me but a title, a mask that I held in place like a shield to protect me from my new, harsh reality. So how did freedom feel?

I gazed out into the city, my eyes dead. I opened my mouth slowly, allowing my deep voice to echo off the silent streets. "It feels cold."

A light touch brushed against my neck and then my jaw. I didn't react until a delicate hand pulled my apathetic gaze to Lust's. I looked into her eyes obediently, never once a thought of defiance crossing my mind, and she stroked my cheek gently, causing me to shudder. Her red lips tilted in a small smirk as she sat down beside me, cold shoulder brushing mine. Her gaze was kind, but there was no warmth there. There never was. _You are mine_ , she seemed to say. I resisted both the urges to pull away violently in remembered pain by her hand, or lean into her gentle touch, if only so she would release me faster.

We sat in silence for a quiet moment, and then she finally released me, standing to her full formidable height. "Come Empathy. It's time."

I stood as well, pushing myself to my feet, every movement as graceful as my companion's. I passed my gaze once more over the empty rooftop with a pang of longing before resolutely facing forward, stepping up by her side. "Let's go."

o-0-o

 _Hullo everyone. My name is Lynnxrider and I welcome you to the second installment of Substitute Soul. It's good to be back._

 _Welcome my new readers! If you are confused, I would suggest going back and reading the first book, Substitute Soul: Deliverance. While I do plan to refresh everyone's memories with references and a few flashbacks, I won't re-explain the entire first book. If you are at all interested in this preface, I promise you'll like it. If you don't feel like it, you can, of course, read this part of the series without it. Your choice._

 _To my faithful followers, welcome back! I'm super excited to be writing again and can't wait to get back to my old schedule. As always, I appreciate your comments, faves/follows. I hope you guys are as excited for this installment as I am:). I dedicate my recent inspiration to Han. If you don't know who that is, don't worry about it. If you do...you're awesome. I'm throwing digital cookies at you._

 _Next Chapter: Edward and Alphonse reel from recent events. Ed goes stir crazy and Al…Al just wants to be able to move again._

 _Note: This scene you just witnessed is set about a third of the way through the book. The first chapter will start right where we left off in book 1._


	2. Healing

Substitute Soul: Divergence

Chapter 1

 ** _Flashback_**

 _"Brother! Brother, please!"_

 _"Al…" Edward Elric groaned, forcing himself to sit his aching body upright in the face of his younger brother's urgent shouting. He squinted his golden eyes open through the pain tearing through him, taking in the absolute absence of color where there had once been an abundance of blood red. A deep seated panic gripped him in denial of what he knew had just happened. No, no PLEASE…But there was no denying that not a drop of red water remained to light the cavernous room in Lab Five. Blood sluggishly rushed in the young man's ears as he looked to the center of the large despicable transmutation circle he had helped create. There, sitting innocuously in the middle of the room, was the Philosopher's Stone, the sinful draw, the holy grail he thought would make everything right again, would fix his sins…But would only end up destroying his soul for good. It gleamed red, the only color in the suddenly dim and lifeless surroundings. Agony pounded in the grievous wound in his side as well as the gaping wound in his heart. He had done this…all those people…_

 _That train of thought was blown from his mind as a dark figure fell to its knees behind the stone._

 _Edward's stomach plummeted through the floor. Alex…his adopted brother, and one half of his ultimate failure._

 _Alex Elric stared blankly ahead with agonized red eyes, once such a vibrant green, now reflecting the gleam of the stone sitting before him and the absolute pain that had become his soul. Tears streamed down his young face, and his mouth hung open in complete shock, shoulders slumped, defeated. What had_ _ **that bastard**_ _Truth shown him to put such an expression on his face? "Alex..?" Ed whispered, reaching out with one weak hand. His vision flickered, but he forced himself to stay awake as his wounds sapped his strength and stole the breath from his lungs._

 _Soft footsteps announced that they were not alone, and three figures emerged from the gloom. Lust, Envy and Gluttony, the Homunculi who orchestrated this very moment, holding the three Elrics by the strings since_ _ **the fucking beginning**_ _, stood beside Alex's huddled form predatorily, staring down coldly at the barely conscious alchemist._

 _"Thank you, Edward," Lust said. She bent down and picked up the magenta bead with delicate fingers, long raven hair sliding over bared, slim shoulders. The tormentress moved behind Alex and knelt at his back gracefully, wrapping one gloved arm around his middle and pulling him against her as the other two watched on, the gleam of insane possessiveness in her eyes._

 _"Stop it!" Alphonse screamed from somewhere in the dark, strange echoed voice muted to the beleaguered and panicking blonde's ears. Edward tried as hard as he could to crawl forward, driven to desperation, but he couldn't move anymore…_

 _Lust ignored them both and held the stone before a trembling Alex. The shocked Elric seemed to come to, red eyes snapping into focus from the depths they had been, but his tears only fell harder as he gazed down at the stone before him. "Please…don't do this…let me die," he pleaded in a voice so very similar to Edwards and so heartbroken that it_ _ **ached.**_

 _"Shhh," Lust hushed him, stroking her hand gently down his chest to soothe, but only served to send a shiver of terrified disgust down Edward's spine as he watched. "It's okay, Empathy," she whispered, using the name imposed upon Ed's younger brother by Truth himself. "It's finally time to join us. I promised you I would give you your heart, didn't I? We've waited for you so very long…"_

 _"Please…" Alex sobbed, voice breaking in desperation. "Let me die!"_

 _"Can't do that, little brother," Envy grinned from Lusts left, slim hips cocked to the side arrogantly and condescending smirk on his smug face. "We've put too much energy into you." Gluttony giggled, a finger on his wide mouth and his bulbous form shaking slightly with vacant mirth._

 _Before Alex could make another utterance, Lust brought the stone to his bare chest and pressed gently._

 _After that was a blur, despite Edward's best effort at remembering. Alphonse screaming in the background, a few vague impressions of colors, sounds, pain and a nameless dread…_

" _Time to go–"_

" _No matter, we have what we came for–"_

"… _sacrifices?"_

" _Leave them–"_

 _And when he woke next, Edward and Alphonse's brother was gone._

o-0-o

FOUR DAYS LATER _Central Hospital_

"Edward Elric!" A loud, feminine voice broke the silence of the room violently, causing the blonde young man to swing his eyes to the door in shock. A slim woman stood strong in the doorway, legs spread aggressively and blue eyes challenging. "You have to eat at some point!"

The young alchemist flinched at her demanding tone, blinking a bit blearily and looking around himself. He forced his mind to focus after what felt like much too long in silence. Dull gold eyes slipped around absently, not really taking in the white sterile hospital room and pausing, as always, on the blank spot where his youngest brother once sat before he requested to move to the roof. As it had every day since that time, Edward's heart sank in disappointment at Alphonse's still empty space.

"Not hungry," Edward sighed, leaning back against the hard pillows on the hospital cot he was confined to and resuming his vacant gaze out the window. The back of his head itched but he ignored it, no longer tempted to run his hand through the unfamiliar short cut, the ends still ragged and uneven from where he had hacked through it with his automail blade.

Winry's shoulders relaxed somewhat in resignation, gaze softening at Edwards recalcitrant back.

"He still hasn't returned, has he," she said softly. Edward grunted in response, feeling almost numb. It wasn't just the drugs coursing through him that held the slowly retreating pain in his side at bay, either. Ever since the events at Lab five four days ago, he'd felt…drained. Empty. And the only one who could pull him from that–the only one _left_ , he thought, depressed–hadn't spoken to him since the day after he woke up.

The red glow of his youngest brother's eyes had gazed upon him steadily, but no matter what the older boy said, he could not get Alphonse to respond. It was terrifying, the silence, and when Edward's pleas became desperate, Alphonse calmly asked Major Armstrong, who visited every other day, to help him to the roof so he could watch the sky. Heartbroken once again, Edward watched as his only remaining brother was lifted upon Alex Armstrong's shoulder–the armor that held his soul marred and broken from the recent battle, leaving him helpless–and taken from his sight.

Edward's mismatched shoulders hunched, as good as a confirmation to Winry's eyes.

With a deep sigh, the young woman slapped the tray containing the sparse mush the hospital called food upon the table beside the boy's bed and plopped into the visitor's chair. Edward seemed to tense further at her close proximity, but Winry, long a childhood friend, would not be deterred.

"Why haven't you talked to him," she asked gently, but steel laced her voice, brokering no refusal to answer. Edward, long used to his friend, understood when to give in lest she pester him for days, answered reluctantly.

"I tried…"

"Edward, it's been days. Try again."

A sharp stab of anger tore through Ed in that moment, and he whipped around, ignoring the sharp report of pain from the stitches in his side. "I TRIED!" He snapped. For a moment, his eyes flashed a fiery gold before fading back into a dull ochre. "I tried," he whispered. "It was like he couldn't hear me at all. He just stared…" Ed's voice broke and Winry frowned deeply, never having seen her friend look quite so dejected since the night the brothers tried to bring their mother back to life.

The young woman sighed and had to agree with Edward's assessment. She had known Alphonse since practically birth and this sullen, monosyllabic mood was completely unlike him. Even she could only get a few noncommittal responses when she had arrived a few days before.

"Oh, Ed…" Winry only knew a little of what happened in Lab Five, but it was enough to know how horribly it had all gone wrong. She didn't think she would ever forget the moment when she received a call from Riza Hawkeye, a woman she had met only briefly the two times she had visited Central. In a grave voice, Hawkeye informed her of the bare minimum of what had happened, clipped tone suggesting that there was so much more, but as a civilian Winry could not know.

But it was enough.

Alex was gone. Alphonse was broken. Edward was badly hurt.

By who? Why? What had happened? Frustration and fear had curled within the young woman's gut. She was always in the dark, always waiting for that next call that might or might not be the news that her friends–damn near brothers–had gotten nearly killed once more. She had stormed to Central, righteous fury and spanner as her weapons of choice, but it had all drained away the moment she saw Edward.

Wane, broken, Edward had stared at her blankly with dulled eyes, completely alone and pale in a sterile white hospital room, looking as though the world had crashed upon his small shoulders. With a devastated expression, Winry had walked in the room and taken Edward gently in her arms. No tears leaked from the boy, so Winry cried for them both.

By the time she got there, Alphonse had already left the room, and no amount of questions on her part would rouse him from his self imposed silence.

"Why would he do this…" Winry mumbled rhetorically, not really expecting an answer. She got one regardless, however, and jumped as Edward replied sarcastically.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, voice cracking slightly through the sarcasm. "Maybe it's the fact that I put him in a damned suit of armor. Maybe it's the fact that I dragged him down with me, _always drag him down with me_ , every time I step out the door." As he spoke, more pain filtered through his rising voice. "Maybe it's that I couldn't protect my little brother from being _half eaten by a monster_ or that I let Alex be taken away from us or that I created–" Edward cut himself off sharply with a strangled moan, biting through his lip until a small bead of blood leaked from beneath his sharp teeth.

Wide eyed, Winry leaned forward and lifted a hesitant hand to his face. Edward flinched, but released his lower lip at her gentle insistence, eyes slightly shocked. She ran a warm finger over the small cut, wiping away the blood. A light blush dusted Edward's cheeks and he looked away, though his expression remained miserable.

"Enough," Winry whispered, drawing his eyes back to her own blues. "Enough," She said louder, more firmly, and pulled back. Standing to her feet abruptly, she backed away and crossed her arms, staring a shocked Edward down with a challenging gaze. "I've had enough! You and Alphonse are brothers and I will not tolerate this any longer." Imperiously she pointed her ever present spanner at Edward who straightened, eyes going comically wide. "YOU! EAT!"

Edward's hand moved, almost without his consent, and he grabbed a sorry looking bread roll from the tray beside him, taking a large bite under her demanding gaze. "That food had better be GONE by the time I get back, Edward Elric, or so help me," she threatened, wrench waving in the air dangerously close to a certain blonde's nose, who nodded rapidly.

Winry nodded once before spinning on her heel, long golden hair snapping behind her like a whip.

"Where are you going!" Edward asked, voice muffled by disgustingly dry bread.

By the time he choked out his question, Winry was already stalking down the hall, various hospital staff leaping out of the volatile woman's way. "All of it, Edward!"

The shaken alchemist gulped harshly and stuffed more bread in his mouth, self-preservation instincts taking over even before he registered the order. He blinked slowly in bewilderment as his long time friend disappeared out of sight, leaving a trail of scared staff in her wake. His gaze snaked over to the still full tray of bland food and he groaned, but knew better than to disobey. Soon enough, though, his starving and neglected body took over, no longer caring what the food tasted like as Edward ate for the first time in days.

o-0-o

It was quiet up here. So quiet. White clouds drifted lazily overhead as a gentle breeze carried them along. Alphonse Elric rested against the nondescript wall next to the entrance to the roof, gazing at the clouds that he could not block out with his lidless vision and observing with limited senses the wind he couldn't feel.

Alphonse tried to clear his mind as his second oldest brother had taught him. He imagined he could breathe, just for a moment imagined he wasn't just an empty shell incapable of movement any longer and tried to block out all thoughts…

Painful memories intruded once every few seconds, but Alphonse pushed them down with an effort. No, he couldn't think right now. Thinking would only bring him more pain and confusion…

But of course, the way he was now, crippled and immobile, there was nothing to do _but_ think. Al let out an unnecessary sigh as he became once more wholly incapable of blocking out his whirling thoughts.

Once again, Barry the Chopper's mocking voice intruded upon his mind, the other soul trapped in a suit of armor plaguing him with endless visions and seeds of doubt.

 _How do you know you aren't just an imitation!? A series of fake memories and emotions created by your brother to serve him? Souls aren't quantifiable by science, so how would you know the difference!_

"No," Alphonse whispered out loud. "It isn't true…I'm Alphonse Elric," he replied to his memory.

But there were things he couldn't remember, and sometimes he couldn't deny that he didn't' feel quite…there. Was any of this real? Doubt and conflict swirled through his soul, made all the more intense because of his inability to move or distract himself. And that was just it wasn't it? He was just a shell, a can with a soul inside…If it was even a real soul…

And the circular thoughts just kept coming. He had been entirely unable to respond to Edward when he had tried to talk to him before. Feelings of uselessness and despair and even a little bit of mistrust had figuratively choked him when he gazed into his brother's worn and sad face. Guilt…he shouldn't have been so worthless that Edward had to face all of that alone…sacrifice his soul and his morals alone…Al should have been able to save Alex from those monsters, and save Edward from what he was forced to do.

But he couldn't. He was just a tin can, easily defeated and destroyed. Or perhaps those feelings were imposed upon him by Edward's programming…

Those thoughts had been torturing him to no end for days while his unnatural body denied him sleep. And the thing was, he didn't know how to make them stop.

A loud bang interrupted the depressed boy's musings, and a puffing Winry stormed from within the building. She threw her head side to side before spotting Alphonse who would have cringed back were he capable.

"Winry…?"

The woman bared her teeth and squared up to the boy. "ALPHONSE ELRIC!"

"Ah! Yes?!" Al replied immediately, fear lacing his voice and shocked thoroughly out of his dark mood.

The fuming woman pointed her wrench threateningly at the boy, who despite not being able to feel anything, still feared the wrench of his childhood friend. "I have had it with your moping. You are going to march back in there and TALK TO YOUR BROTHER!"

Alphonse deflated, shock giving way to annoyance. "If you haven't noticed," he said bitterly, "that's not possible."

Winry seemed genuinely taken aback for a second, glancing up and down Alphonse's ruined form, before seeming to rally. "NO. No more excuses. You've been brooding for DAYS and I will see you two make up or I will drag your sorry butt down to Edward's hospital room MYSELF!"

"That won't be necessary," a husky voice came from the door, and both Winry and Alphonse looked on in shock as Edward eased himself outside. He was hunched, the wound in his side still causing him a great deal of pain, and Alphonse couldn't help the thrill of panic at seeing him up and about so soon after so brutal an injury. Still, he could not bring himself to react, and when Edward's pained eyes met his, Al looked away.

"Edward," Winry gasped in distress, immediately going to the injured boy's side. "What are you doing up! Your stitches–"

"Can wait," Edward snapped, waving Winry aside. His sharp gaze bore into Alphonse, and the boy thought he could almost feel his soul pressing in on his own, though he knew it was impossible. He only had that kind of connection with Alex…

"Alphonse," Edward's voice pleaded gently. "Please, talk to me."

"Why should I," Al said, voice dark.

"Because I'm your brother, dammit," Ed retorted angrily, the emotion only thinly veiling the panic he was no doubt feeling.

"Are you? Are you really," Alphonse said, and it was as if he was listening to himself in the third person, unable to control his own voice. He didn't look, but he could almost physically feel the pain his words caused Edward.

Winry gasped. "Al, how could you say that! Of course Ed is your brother!"

"Am I his real brother," Al continued as if Winry hadn't spoken. "Am I Alphonse Elric? Did Alphonse Elric even _exist?_ " He turned his gaze onto Edward, who visibly flinched, pupils barely a pinprick of black on wide golden eyes. "You attached me to this suit of armor, didn't you brother? Did you also create my memories?"

He looked down at the ground, barely keeping his voice steady. "After all, memories are just data you can look up like a cabinet of files. As talented an Alchemist as you are, you could have made me any way you wanted…"

"Alphonse," Edward choked, "That's not–"

But Al continued ruthlessly, all of what he had been thinking and fearing coming out at once in a terrible wave. "Alphonse Elric was never a real person."

"Al, what–" Winry tried to interrupt, but she was cut off as well.

"Back before we stormed lab five, there was something you wanted to tell me, wasn't there, my so called brother," Alphonse said coldly. "That was it, wasn't it? That I'm not real! That I've never been real!" At this point, the boy was panting, worked up even though he had no body to breathe with. "I can't remember parts of my past because they never happened! My memories and my soul is fake, something you created! That's what you wanted to tell me, isn't it!"

"Al that's not what he was trying to tell you," Winry shouted desperately, "He was trying to ask–"

"Stop lying to me!" Alphonse shouted.

"I'm not," she yelled back, "You and Ed and I have been together since birth!"

Still, Edward just stared, shock painted all over his face, and that only seemed to confirm Alphonse's fears.

"And what proof do you have? Pictures? How can I believe that when Alex looks exactly like that boy with Edward! How do I know he wasn't the one who–"

"Stop," Edward finally spoke, stopping Al in his tracks. Al choked back, armor vibrating with terrible emotions. The older boy's eyes were hidden behind his bangs and his mouth was set in a deep frown. "So this is what you've been thinking about this whole time?" He stepped forward. "That you weren't real? That I just created you to be my _plaything_?"

"Well, did you? Answer me!"

Edward grit his teeth while Winry looked on fearfully between the two.

"Why won't you say anything?! Unless it's true!" Alphonse felt panic well up within him, crowding his soul. He wanted to be able to move. He couldn't move! "I'm just an empty piece of metal! How can I continue living this lie!"

"Enough!" Edward finally shouted. He kneeled down and got right into Alphonse's metal face. His eyes were full of fury and pain and Alphonse flinched back from him with a gasp. "How can you think that all of this was a lie? That Alex was a lie? Did you think he just made it all up about his home, about wanting to get back? When you connected, were his emotions fake!?"

Alphonse reeled, taking in Edward's words. No…no it hadn't been. There's no way someone could keep that up…but…

"Did you think," Edward continued, voice choked with either fury or grief, "That I made you up? Fabricated your feelings? Made up _Mom_?!"

And just like that, a flood of memories, _real_ memories, infused Alphonse's soul, filtering away his doubt.

 _Trisha making them pies with a bright smile, the hazy memories of her gentle touch as she tucked them into bed._

 _Edward smiling sleepily as a child, holding Alphonse's hand and guiding him to the bathroom when he felt scared to go alone._

 _Winry's bright smile and hot temper when they were little and would ditch her to go read alchemy books._

 _Alex's grieved face when he thought no one was looking, the same look that Trisha had right before she died, so experienced and wizened, in no way resembling the photos of a happy young Alphonse…_

A haze of panic seemed to clear slowly from Alphonse's beleaguered mind as he looked on his brother's face properly for the first time in days. "Ed…I…"

His older brother dropped his eyes and squeezed them tight, but not before Al caught a glimmer of moisture. "Al…what I wanted to ask you that night…but was too afraid to say it. It's my fault that you no longer have a body…Do you hate me?!"

"What…?" Alphonse whispered.

Ed's shoulders began trembling, head bowed low against Al's chest. "Do you hate me," he repeated. "I gotta know. I wouldn't blame you if you did…Do you hate me for all that's happened?"

"That's...what you've been trying to ask me?" Alphonse suddenly felt more confined in his own body than even before. Because he wanted to wrap his arms, his _real_ arms, around this idiot brother of his. He had been so _stupid_. All this time, Edward was worried that Alphonse would blame him, as if he didn't share an equal burden. He had let Barry's words get between them and let his feelings lend credence to complete lies, growing a wedge where there was none. He may not have had the deep empathic connection with Edward that he had with Alex, but Al and Ed had a connection all their own; that of blood brothers who grew up together, who knew each other inside and out. That could never be fabricated. His answer was obvious. "I could never hate you, brother." Edward's breath hitched at his words. "I'm sorry…"

A tense moment passed them by as the three youths stood in silence. Then his older brother chuckled weakly, glancing up behind his bangs with somewhat cleared eyes. "You know, we used to fight over all sorts of stupid stuff, didn't we Al," he asked quietly, clenching Al's shoulder plate tightly.

"Heh, yeah...Like who got the most candy…" Al responded, soul easing like a gently unraveling knot.

"Or that toy, remember?"

"Or who got to marry Winry when we grew up."

A faint laugh came from beside them and both boys turned their gaze on Winry, who had tears streaked down her cheeks but a relieved smile gracing her lips. "Oh boys," she mumbled, shaking her head. "That plate better have been cleared, Edward," she finally said, turning around and heading to the stairs, "or there will be hell to pay." She paused, "I'll see you two later," and closed the door gently behind her.

Ed frowned, a light blush warming his cheeks, and complained, "You didn't need to bring that one up, Al."

"Yes, I did," the younger Elric responded, feeling mirth for the first time in over a week. It felt...real.

Ed let out a genuine smile at that, before frowning once more. "So you're telling me that all those memories are lies?"

"...Sorry."

"Or that our desire to get our bodies back and Alex back to his own world," he clenched his automail hand, "fabrications."

"No. My feelings are real."

"That's right. We are in this together all the way, all three of us. We are going to save Alex, and we are going to push forward, make ourselves better, faster, stronger until we get our bodies back!"

"Right. Whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes."

o-0-o

A little while later, Edward found himself back in his hospital room, dearly wishing for more painkillers, despite his absolute hatred of the stuff. He had really pushed himself a little too far just then. But despite that, his heart felt lighter and more hopeful than it had in days.

"Edward," Winry said brightly from her position by the window, clearly having been waiting for him. "Where's Al?"

"On the roof still," Ed replied easily. "Said he needed to think about some stuff and cool down."

"But," Winry said, a tad uncertain.

"It's alright. I think we're okay now." He grinned, and Winry relaxed. "Say, there's something I need your help with."

"Oh," Winry ribbed, "besides repairing you two's relationship?"

"Heh, yeah, besides that." The young man's gaze turned serious, and Winry sobered in response. "There isn't enough of Al's original armor to fix him. I want you to build me something."

o-0-o

Hello folks. Been awhile. I have, unfortunately been job hunting, so that's why you haven't heard from me in forever. It's no walk in the park, I'll tell you what. I'm exhausted. I thought shit was supposed to get easier after graduation! What happened?!

Anyway, in other news, I achieved black belt status! Wooo!

Nuff about me. On with the story! So yeah, Ed and Al are duking it out, working through some feels. Had to be done, I'm afraid, but the good news is, it should lighten up a bit, at least on their end. Alex is another story. We'll hear from him soon, I promise.

So quick question, because I'm totally curious. To my readers old and new: Do you see Alex as a woman or a man? I mean in your head. I'm just asking because some refer to him as a her or vice versa in reviews and it kinda seems split down the middle. It totally and completely doesn't matter, so don't feel obligated to answer, but it's just interesting to think about, yeah?

Anywho, thank you all for sending your love. Every review/fav/hit makes me happy and motivates me to work hard. Hope to hear from you all again!

Next Chapter: Interrogations


	3. Interrogation

Lieutenant Colonel Hughes walked meanderingly down the halls of Central Hospital, deep in thought over the recent revelations in Lab Five. The black haired man's expression was so grim, so unusual on his perpetually cheerful face, that even those staff who knew him removed themselves from his path. Hughes peered intently through his thick rimmed glasses at the floor before his striding feet, but he did not see much, looking inward. He was on his way to hopefully visit someone who could finally shed some light on recent unsettling events.

What he and his team had found...it wasn't pretty, to say the least. After the events leading up to the breaking in and concurrent rescue of the Elrics from the supposedly abandoned fifth laboratory, Hughes had gotten the unenviable (self imposed, unless one counted Roy breathing down his neck) task of investigating Lab Five. It was unauthorized, of course, but in the mayhem of the last couple of days, Mustang and his cabinet were able to hold the brass at bay, Roy taking most of the heat for the break-in. Needless to say, he was quite busy.

Hughes knew he hadn't much time, so he got down to business right away, barely going home in the interim. Interrogation of the guards posted near the building turned up nothing, claiming they had only been following orders, so that had lead nowhere. They hadn't even been specifically assigned to watch the entrances, so their commanding officers weren't necessarily suspect. Or at least they wouldn't be, if not for the damning evidence within.

What was inside the building itself...He was no alchemist by any means, but even he knew to recognize the signs of the science used corruptly. If the blatant signs of human transmutation weren't enough, then the bodies were.

He paused in his musings brought him abruptly to his destination with him barely noticing. Second Lieutenant Barret– a tall, black haired soldier– greeted him with a raised eyebrow and a lazy salute. Vaguely amused, as he always was when coming into contact with the enigmatic investigator, Hughes returned the gesture.

"Report," he said quietly. "How are those two doing?"

"Sir," Barret dropped his salute and resumed his languid position against the wall, crossing corded arms over his chest. "Major Elric's condition has improved, and he has been able to stay awake today. There was a brief incident yesterday evening when he left his hospital room to speak to his brother on the roof."

"Oh?" Hughes mumbled, rubbing his chin. As far as he had been informed, Alphonse had yet to speak to anyone.

"Yes sir. I kept an eye out, but he returned a few minutes later without incident. Alphonse followed shortly after with the help of some of the hospital staff."

"Hmm," the head of Investigations mused. "Good to know." Hughes flashed Barret a wide grin and a pat on the shoulder before continuing down the hall. "Good work."

Unamused, Barret merely scowled, an unusual expression on his usually impassive face, and stepped in front of his superior officer. "Sir…"

"I know, soldier," Hughes waved him off, already falling back into his contemplative mood, though a small indulgent smile remained on his face. "I'll give you a full report this afternoon. Right now I need you to keep an eye on these boys. They've already been attacked multiple times right under the military's nose..." That and Edward was likely to run off on his own again at the first opportunity if he wasn't being closely watched.

Barret moved out of the way without further protest, though his expression remained vaguely troubled. Hughes left, assured that he would stay. Barret was one of the best in the investigations department, and one of his most trusted. With Mustang and his crew holding the brass at bay, Hughes was few in friends he could truly trust. The young soldier had vociferously protested the guard assignment, quite put out at being left out of the proceedings at he lab. Well, as vociferous as the inscrutable man ever really got. He had had a close friendship with Alex Elric, and an extremely tenacious nose for a mystery. Hughes smiled fondly. Once things settled down a bit, he would need that nose.

At last Hughes reached the hospital door behind which Edward had been sulking alone for days. Without further ado he swung it open, plastering a large grin on his face. "Edward, hi!" he exclaimed, stepping inside with a wave.

His entrance went largely unnoticed, save for a now seemingly responsive Alphonse, who merely swung his eyes to the door. Edward sat upright in his hospital bed, tray on his lap and completely focused on something he was working on, pen dancing wildly over a large paper. He seemed oblivious that anyone had even entered the room. Likewise, Miss Winry Rockbell was standing over his shoulder, studying the page just as intently. Hughes couldn't see what it was from there, but became immediately distracted by Alphonse before he could snoop.

"Hello Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," Al said politely, and Maes was momentarily taken aback by his optimistic tone.

"Well hello there, Alphonse. Feeling a little better?"

"Yes," the boy nodded, though he still had a hint of sadness in his countenance. The man really couldn't blame him for that, considering recent circumstances.

Hughes walked into curiously, firmly closing the door behind him. "I would have thought Edward would have fixed you by now. What gives?" He looked over at the boy in question, who was still pouring over that paper of his, completely ignoring the man.

Al glanced over as well. "I'm afraid there isn't enough of my armor left to restore it."

"Not enough," Hughes mused, confused. "Can't you just use any old metal?"

"Yes," Edward spoke up finally, though he didn't pause in his work. "I can use any metal to repair him but…"

"It won't be as strong as the original armor," Al piped in. "Constructing steel with alchemy will never be as sturdy as that created in a forge."

"That means he'll be a bit fragile, and besides that…"

"Brother and I talked about it. We want to try to build me a new body."

"...Is that even possible?" Hughes asked dubiously, a bit amused by the boys' habit of finishing each other's thoughts, and thoroughly pleased to see that habit returned.

"I'm...not entirely sure." Edward said, finally looking up from his sketch. The second he did, Winry snatched the paper from his tray and held it up to the light, face intense with concentration. Shooting her a vaguely annoyed look, the blonde elaborated. "In theory, it should be exactly the same as using scrap metal to recreate his body, only we would have to remove his soul seal from the rest of the ruined material and basically attach him to a new vessel."

"And that's different because…?"

Edward grimaced at Alphonse, uncomfortable. Al shook his head, radiating exasperation. "You worry too much, brother." He turned to Hughes, whose eyes continued to flicker between the two boys at the byplay. "The seal is what holds my soul to this world, and when a piece of that body is destroyed, I experience what I think of as a 'backlash'. In essence, it feels like the part of my soul that controlled the destroyed piece snaps back towards the seal."

"If we don't do this carefully," Edward said slowly, "we might damage Alphonse's soul."

"I don't think it will," Al said firmly, as if he had already said it a hundred times.

"You don't know that, Al," Ed snapped back immediately. "For all we know, you could be injuring it every time a part of that body is damaged."

"I'm not going to change my mind, brother."

A tense silence filled the room, only broken by Winry, who mumbled something about Edward's terrible drawing skills. "Oookay," Hughes finally said, stepping back a little. "I'm guessing this isn't a popular decision."

Edward crossed his arms and scowled. "I wasn't against the idea at first, not till I really started to think about it…"

"I won't change my mind," Alphonse repeated stubbornly. "It isn't just that the remade armor wouldn't be as strong. I… I want to look more human…"

He trailed off, and Edward's face became strained while Hughes' mind lighted in sudden understanding. "I see…" He grinned suddenly, changing the subject abruptly. "So Ed, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," the boy said recalcitrantly, crossing his arms over his chest. The man was tempted to roll his eyes. Of course he was.

"Really," Hughes said brightly. "'Cause you look like hell! I gotta say Ed, I'm liking the new haircut, but you could really use a trim. I know, Gracia is good at that kind of thing! I'll bring her over–"

"Hughes," Edward said exasperatedly, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The soldier was very glad to see it, as last time he had been there, Edward had been comatose with grief. Whatever happened between the brothers seemed to have lifted both of their spirits, despite the grave situation. "What do you want?"

"Right, right," Hughes said, cutting off his rambling. He pulled the guest chair up and sat in it heavily, letting out a tired sigh. He leaned forward and Ed sobered as well, sensing the change in mood.

"About Lab Five…"

"You have news," Edward interjected swiftly, gaze intensifying. Alphonse clanked to attention as well.

Hughes opened his mouth to respond, then abruptly sat back and patted his stomach dramatically. "Miss Rockbell," he said loudly, drawing the attention of the young woman who was currently sprawled on the floor, sketching wildly. Winry looked up, annoyed at the interruption. "Would you mind finding Barret out in the hall and rustling us up some lunch? I sure am starving!"

"Yeah," Edward said, catching on and piping up before Winry could refuse. "And none of that gross hospital stuff. If I have to eat another dry bread roll I think I'm going to be sick," he grimaced.

Winry's eyes softened, although she still glanced between them, vaguely suspicious. "Yeah, alright," she said slowly, standing and brushing off her pants. "I'll be back in a little while."

"Thanks Winry, you're a lifesaver," Edward grinned, sounding genuinely grateful. Winry smiled back, clearly heartened by the sight.

"Yeah, yeah."

Once the young woman left the room, the mood dropped considerably once more, tension verily leaking off the two boys. "Did you find him?" Ed said intensely, though he didn't sound like he was expecting good news.

Hughes' eyes closed and he carded his fingers under his chin, resting against his knees. "No. There was a trail up until the exit, and then it's as if they just vanished. I'm sorry."

Edward exhaled in disappointment, but no real surprise. "Of course not."

Hughes watched closely as the young alchemist's expression completely closed off. "As far as the official report goes, we have decided to pin all of the collateral damage on Scar. You spotted him and chased him to Lab Five, where he broke in and you followed. The brass seem placated for now."

The boy grunted, frowning deeply. "Convenient scapegoat," he commented. "Have there actually been any recent sightings of the maniac in the last few weeks?"

"Not that we know of. Roy's monitoring it closely, among other things. Like you said, convenient." Edward hummed, but did not speak further. Hughes sighed. "Ed, I need you to tell me what happened."

The boy's golden eyes seemed to shutter closed, and crinkles appeared between his brows. "...How should I know...I passed out."

"Don't give me that. We've found bodies that are no doubt chimeras," Hughes pressed, "and some rather sophisticated equipment that I can't help but think was in use only recently. And I don't know much about alchemy, but I know a human transmutation circle when I see one."

Edward's shoulders twitched and he looked down at the sheets, expression tight. "Ed, what the hell happened down there. Just tell me what you saw."

A tense moment of silence passed as Edward seemed to struggle with whether or not to trust the man. Hughes tried not to be hurt by his obvious reluctance to confide in him, but sat patiently, understanding on some level that Edward and Alphonse had a hard time trusting anyone outside of their trio, especially when the most trusting of the bunch, Alex, was missing. It was what got them in so much trouble on so many occasions. He knew that if he pressed, Ed would only withdraw further. He just needed to be patient... still, Hughes almost turned to Alphonse to try his luck with him, when Edward finally answered. "Homunculi," he whispered.

Hughes' eyes widened in shock, and he barely held back a gasp. "You're kidding me," he whispered just as quietly "as in, artificial humans?"

"Yes."

"But...I thought that was only a theory."

"No," Ed said adamantly. "It's no theory." He looked over at his younger brother, and for a moment, the two seemed to exchange a silent communication. Hughes remained quiet, observing.

"We know it's not," Alphonse said softly, "because we made one."

Hughes leaned back, looking between the two, brows furrowed. "What do you mean?" A mere second later, he answered his own question, eyes narrowing. "Alex."

A split hesitation, then Edward nodded, expression deeply troubled. "Yes. Alex…"

"We theorized," the man said, covering his brow with his hand, "that Alex was somehow the result of your transmutation...but a homunculus…?" Silence fell heavily in the room, each contemplating recent and past revelations. Eventually, Hughes broke the silence, dropping his hands once more. "So these others. Were they interested in Alex because of what he is?"

"That's what that woman, Lust, said," Al spoke, finally coming into the conversation.

"And this Lust, is it the same woman who murdered Mr. Tucker?"

"Yes," Ed said.

"And who attacked Alex once before in Dublith?"

"I...yes," Ed frowned. "How did you know about that?"

Hughes raised a brow at him and the boy conceded the point with a huff. "So now we know why these...homunculi have been after Alex. At least partially. Did they mention what they wanted him _for?_ "

The young alchemist frowned deeply, anger sparking in his eyes. "Not specifically. _Lust_ ," he said the name with disgust, as if it was poison, "said she wanted to _save_ him."

"Save him from what?"

Edward sighed deeply, and Alphonse answered for him. "Alex was dying." His armor clanked as he looked out the window. "She said he was incomplete without the philosopher's stone; the 'heart of the homunculus'. Or rather, their power source."

Hughes paused a moment to take that in, not quite sure how to respond, or whether he even wanted to ask his next question. Edward continued before he could regardless, and he turned back to the solemn boy.

"They tried to convince me to create a philosopher's stone using the thousands of gallons of red water that was stored there."

"Red water…" Hughes said, not quite understanding.

"It's made through mass genocide…" Ed whispered, no longer seeming capable of holding his head up.

The investigator's lips pursed, and he suddenly felt much, much older than his mid-thirties. "Ed...there was no red water in that room when we arrived…"

The boy's shoulders hunched damningly, and Hughes cursed violently in his head, in three different languages. Outwardly he remained calm, but something must have shown on his face, because Alphonse began defending his brother immediately.

"They were going to kill me…" Alphonse said brokenly. "The large one was eating me with some strange acid and they forced brother to–" He cut himself off, no longer able to continue.

Hughes closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten. When he opened them, they were without judgement, allowing him to continue. He opened his mouth once, closed it, then tried again. "They used it on Alex, I presume."

"...Yes. And then they took him," Edward responded almost calmly, having regained his voice. "But that wasn't all they wanted. They referred to me and Alphonse as 'sacrifices', and that they were keeping us alive for their sakes. Also, Alex was told that the were being led by one who created them. We don't know much more than that."

Edward pulled out a few more sheets of paper from his bedside and began drawing, speaking as he went. "A guardian trapped in a suit of armor, labs for human experimentation, the homunculi, the arrays for the philosopher's stone, and," he paused in his scribbling, looking Hughes seriously in the eye, "one of them was disguised as Tim Marcoh, whose home we found ransacked not two weeks ago."

Hughes stood, pinching the bridge of his nose and placing a hand on his hip. "This is getting serious, all of this business. And it's all about a little red stone."

"It's been serious for a long time," Ed said without humor. "The homunculi, the red stones that have been popping up everywhere, the Ishvalan Rebellion where the stone was supposedly used as a weapon, it's all connected somehow. We're just not sure _how_."

The investigator looked between the two boys, noting the deep shadows beneath Edward's eyes and the nearly tangible distress radiating from Alphonse. He let out a small huff and a smile, breaking the tension somewhat. "Thanks for the info, Ed, you've given me a lot to chew on. I'll take over from here. Why don't you two get some rest and worry about yourselves for a while." Edward's small relieved smile and visible droop in his shoulders felt like a victory to Hughes, who patted the exhausted boy on the shoulder. "Where are you going from here?"

Edward slumped back, letting his eyes close. "Well, first we have to get Al in working order. We don't have any leads on Alex at all yet, so we are going to Rush Valley, home of the automail, to build him a new body. Then…"

"Then I'll have some leads for you," Hughes said firmly, earning another tired smile. "You just worry about Al for now. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Then I'll have Gracia come by with a pair of scissors before then," he said brightly over the sound of Edward's exasperated moan. "Now, now, Ed, you can't go around looking like a vagabond forever! You'll thank me later." With that, Hughes bid them both good afternoon and quietly closed the door behind him.

Slowly his smile dropped, and he walked back down the hall, even more troubled than he had been that morning. Barret was waiting for him, an expectant tilt to his brow.

"Barret," Hughes said darkly. "We have work to do."

"Of course," the soldier said, falling into step beside his mentor. "I thought you'd never ask."

o-0-o

Back in the hospital room, Edward's eyes opened slowly, face falling in an all too familiar grimace.

"You didn't tell him everything," Alphonse chastised, though it was without heat.

"What, that we are the very lure that might bring the homunculi to us?" Edward smiled humorlessly. "It's best he doesn't know, or he might interfere. If those bastards are going to use us as a 'sacrifice' for something, then that means they'll be keeping an eye on us. Not only that, they are the ones putting the rumors about the philosopher's stone out there. If we find the source of those rumors…

"We find them, and maybe Alex," Alphonse finished, drawing a fond smile from his older brother.

"Right. Rush valley happens to be on the way to an Ishvalan camp in the south. It is rumored that the Ishvalans created a philosopher's stone of their own during the rebellion, but they don't believe in alchemy. My guess is they have another way of creating it."

"So either it's a new lead to the stone or another rumor forged by our targets."

"Exactly."

Alphonse looked out the window, spirits lifting somewhat. "I can't wait to be able to move again." Ed knew it wasn't just mobility he was talking about either. It was the idea of moving forward with their quest, after what must have seemed like an eternity standing still.

"Yeah."

Winry chose that moment to come back in, blinking in surprise to find that Hughes was no longer there. She looked down at the food in her hand, frowning slightly. "You just missed Hughes," Edward said by way of greeting. "He said I could have his share though."

"Heh, sure he did, Ed," Winry said, not impressed. Still, she handed over the two portions, not doubting for a moment that Ed would finish them by himself. "So about those parts we need…"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that," Ed said, throwing his hands behind his head and smiling smugly. "How would you like to make a trip to Rush Valley?"

A squeal and a grateful blonde in his lap was all the answer Edward needed, the automail enthusiast overwhelmingly excited to visit the birthplace of her trade. "Oh Edward, Edward, I love you!"

"Ah! Okay, okay, watch the stitches!" Ed laughed, hugging his friend back. He grinned at Alphonse, who tilted his head in amusement. It was time to move forward.

o-0-o

Hello friends. Thanks for all your thoughts in the last chapter. It was really helpful to understand how my readers were thinking about the whole gender issue. Especially helpful was my anonymous friend who wrote 'An Analysis'. Very insightful, thanks. I hope I can live up to you all's hopes for this story.

So yeah, Hughes is on the trail, while Al and Ed follow their own lead. Those boys and their trust issues, tsk, tsk.

Next Chapter: Alex is running, but he's not sure if it's from his captors or himself.


	4. Void

I woke by degrees.

The first thing I sensed was the silence. Going through life, I can say for a fact that I have been in many quiet places. Waking in the earliest of the morning hours, when even the crickets slept. The tall tree in the secluded thicket that I prided myself for climbing as a child. The abandoned house I once slept in for a dare. Or the absolute seclusion of diving into the ocean, forced to close your eyes for the stinging of the salt and sensing the _vastness_ of the water pressing in around you.

In all of those places, I could truly say I felt alone, that it was quiet. But, this, where I was now, was _silence_. In those places I could at the very least hear the whisper of the wind, the rustling of the leaves, the settling of an old structure or the eternal rush of the ocean. Here...there was nothing. No comfort of familiarity nor any sign of life, or proof that I even existed.

The second thing I noticed was that I no longer felt any pain. I had been in pain for so long...mentally and physically it was as if I had been deteriorating for years. And I guess, in a way, I had. The absence of that pain–in fact, the absolute well-being I felt physically for the first time in forever– was like a euphoria all it's own. And yet, was I even still alive…?

Movement came to me next. My body twitched as I woke, experimentally moving my toes, fingers, hands. I shifted my back, sensing that I lay on something, but it felt almost intangible to me. Solid, but not...I lifted a hand to my face, marveling at the absence of pain in my chest, and opened my eyes.

I saw nothing.

Or, to be more accurate, I saw nothing but my own hand hovering above my eyes on a backdrop of pure, blinding white. I inhaled slowly, filling my lungs with stale air, devoid of smell– which somehow seemed incomprehensible–and then released it, hearing the rush of air from my own body, the only sound in this place...wherever I was...I sat up slowly. Or maybe I sat up at a normal speed. I couldn't place it, but it was almost as though time was strange. Can one...mute time? Was time even relevant in this place? Senses didn't seem to be…

Memory came to me last as I looked down at myself–what else was there to look at, after all–and saw my legs clad in soft black fabric. I ran my hands over the unfamiliar silk and couldn't help but compare it to so many things at once. It was black like the dress that clung to the soft curves of the woman I most despised in this world. It was black like the void I was taken into by Truth, or Father, or whatever that bastard wanted to call himself. Anger began pooling within me like a slow building acid as my memories began returning to me. Black like the terrible hands that drew me into the darkness. Black like...like my lost lover's eyes when the light left them forever.

The sob startled me, yanking straight from my chest as if something was tearing the air from my lungs, no more voluntary than getting punched in the gut. It sounded incredibly loud to my ears in this silent place, the space I now recognized as the empty void where the Gate of Alchemy appeared before me for the first time, where my hope to return to my happiness was taken away from me forever. The second sob was physically painful, and the third was no more than a silent scream as I curled in on myself, wrapping my arms around my noticeably bare shoulders and ducking my head behind my clenched knees. Tears began sliding down my face in warm streams, but even that felt muted to me here.

For a moment–for eternity?–I mourned my loss, trembling alone in the endless light. I remembered everything now; the pain inflicted on me by both Lust and my incomplete nature, opening my eyes to find Edward about to do something unforgivable for our sakes, reaching towards him...paying his price when I failed to stop him…

And finally, Lust forcing the philosopher's stone within me, even while I begged for death, for this terrible nightmare to finally be over…

Slowly, I became aware that I wasn't entirely as alone as I thought. Voices began clammering in the silence, at first ignored for the sake of my grief, but then growing louder in volume until I could no longer block it out.

I lifted my head in shock and looked around wildly for the source of the clamoring, but saw nothing. The noise began to press in around me, as if I was being physically smothered. I clutched at my chest instinctively, at first not realizing what was happening.

Then it became all too horribly clear as something within me broke like a damm, and the murmurs became a terrible compounded _scream_.

Emotions of _thousands_ slammed into my soul like a brick wall, whatever had been holding them back as I woke utterly shattered. Pain, terror and _misery_ intruded on my mind, and for several seconds, I couldn't even understand that the sensations weren't physically hearable, that the screaming was coming from _me_.

"Ahhha...AAAAAAAaaah!"

The emotions writhed, almost sentient in nature, but not. There was no individualism to them, only what felt like compounded impressions of thousands upon thousands of the last moments of human lives ending in violence and then becoming trapped.

Thier absolute _misery_ clawed at me with sharp talons, tearing me apart. I cringed beneath the onslaught of what I realized in a moment of clarity was the souls trapped in the philosopher's stone embedded in my chest. But understanding brought no relief. No matter how I howled into the void they would not relent.

"STOP! Please, you're….HaaaAAah….tearing me apart…!" My screams tore at my throat till I tasted blood, only to heal a split second later and start the agony anew.

I pressed forehead against the surface below me, back arched in terrible sensation, and I was caught in that loop for what felt like an eternity, but what could easily have been a few seconds. Then something else began to press into my tortured awareness, another pressure that I could swear I've felt before. It built and built till it became almost as unbearable as the voices within me. I panicked. I couldn't...control–too much! I threw my head back and howled into the void at the pressure's peak.

"STOP!"

The emotions stopped so suddenly and completely, I felt it like a physical backlash. I gasped wildly, clawing at my chest for several seconds as my soul seemed to reassert itself, almost as if it had been condensed down and then reinflated, or like it had almost been forced out of my physical body.

"Wha–ah–" I gasped. The foreign emotions seemed to be gone, and the strange pressure seemed to be gone as well, leaving me feeling as I had when I first awoke. But wait, they weren't quite gone, I could still feel the presence of the souls, but it felt as if they just...flatlined. For a few moments that's how they remained, but as I focused on them, the murmuring began again. I panicked, trying to withdraw as they oppressed my soul slowly once more.

"NO!" This time the pressure, seeming to originate somewhere within my mind, came sooner, and I grasped onto it desperately, pushing it forward like a shield. "Enough!"

Just like before, the souls quieted, and I exhaled gratefully as the strange pressure dispersed again. Okay. Okay, so don't focus on the philosopher's stone's souls unless I want to be overwhelmed. I took a long, shuddering breath.

Finally, I became calm enough to analyze what just happened. I rubbed at my bare arms vigorously, hoping to be distracted from wandering in a dangerous direction again. I hadn't ever thought of it before, but my reaction to the philosopher's stone should have been obvious to me. As a homunculus– and I cringed away from the word in my mind, no longer able to deny that I wasn't human–I had the ability to sense others' emotions, and in some rare cases, project my own.

So...now that I was 'complete' I...what? Could _control_ others' emotions–assuming the writhing souls could even still be considered alive? That was an entirely unsettling and terrifying thought, but I couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly grateful. Or maybe I only had that control over the souls in my chest. It hardly mattered at the moment, though, with no way to test it. In any case, without that extra ability, I may have been torn apart by the tortured souls forced upon me.

...That's right. There's a philosopher's stone within me. I could almost physically feel it, resting in the center of my chest beside my slowing heartbeat. I bit my lip and gently placed a hand over my chest, closing my eyes. I hadn't had any choice in the matter, but that didn't stop the overpowering guilt that suddenly clawed at my throat.

I shook my head sharply and stood, trying desperately to get my mind off of what was inside of me before I was overwhelmed again. Likewise I repressed my grief and confusion. There was no room for that now, not with the precarious control I was just barely clinging to with the tips of my consciousness.

Right. I needed to find out where I was. I was alone, with no idea of how I got here besides a vague recollection of passion out in Lust's arms. So, logically, it was she who put me here.

...But where was 'here'? As far as I could see, there was nothing. No Gate, no Truth, and it…I couldn't really describe it, but it felt _different_ than when I faced Truth. Before there was this energy, or presence. But now it was completely devoid of anything. Experimentally I walked forward, but though my foot–bare, I noticed for the first time–touched the surface beneath me and my body shifted forward, there was no physical sensation of having moved. It was thoroughly unsettling. I took a few more steps with no discernable difference. My brows furrowed in distress, and I felt trapped.

I sat with a huff, wrapping my arms around my legs once more, comforting myself with my apparent physicalness. How was I going to get out of here…? Where were Edward and Alphonse? With a flash of concern, I suddenly remembered the grievous condition I had last seen them in, and my eyes widened in distress. Were they okay? Did they make it out of that awful place? I couldn't really recall, as everything had been the shade of blood in that room, but hadn't Edward been injured?

Edward's despaired and terrified face, tinted in crimson light, flashed before my inner eye, and I was startled as a sudden flush of pure, unadulterated _fury_ spiked through me. I grasped onto the emotion in confusion, examining it. I felt...angry.

At Edward? But why?

Before I could look too closely, I became distracted as my solitude was encroached. I sensed her before I saw her and scrambled to my feet as Lust the Lascivious seemed to step out of nothing before me.

Lithe and imposing, she stood a half a head taller than me, all pale skin and cold beauty wreathed in black clothes and waves of long hair. It almost hurt to look at her agains the white background, and with her came a flood of unpleasant memories and feelings of being dominated.

Red lips quirked in amusement and the anger I had been puzzling about before redirected to the woman in front of me like a magnet. I stepped back and growled, finally feeling as though I was moving now that I had something to reference.

"Lust," I rasped, voice still broken from my screams prior, despite my healing ability. I turned to her my most fierce glare, pouring all of my hatred for her and all that had happened in a single look.

"Now, now," my perpetual tormentress simpered in that husky voice of hers, red-violet eyes practically dancing in delight. "Is that any way to greet your savior?" She came towards me, gliding over the nothingness like a wraith, and I couldn't help but take another involuntary step back in ingrained fear of her presence.

"Stay away from me!" I growled viciously, bringing my hands up to bear and acutely missing the weight of my favored weapons in my grip.

Lust paused, then raised her hands in surrender, though her smug expression lingered. "Very well," she simpered. She dropped her hands by her sides and began to walk around me instead, keeping a calculated distance. Her gaze lingering like a physical caress as she glided, hips swaying.

I followed her closely with my eyes, not daring to let her out of my sight, keeping my body angled lest she attack. My blood verily buzzed with adrenaline as I turned.

"How are you feeling, my Empathy?"

I twitched at the name. "What did you call me?"

The woman brought a delicate finger to her lips, expression falling into innocence as she momentarily paused in her circling. "Didn't Father tell you?" She smiled toothily while realization dawned in my eyes as I remembered Truth's words, and began circling once more.

I looked down, momentarily ignoring her presence. That's right. When I was created...Truth somehow interfered and infused within me his 'flaw'. _He_ called me that.

I snapped my eyes back up as I suddenly realized Lust was slipping from my sight. I turned towards her once more, and I gasped in shock to find her standing directly in front of me, close enough to feel her body heat radiating off my skin. Before I could react, a gloved hand brushed down my bare arm, and the other wrapped around my neck, pulling me against her.

The woman's soft chest pressed against my own as she looked down into my startled eyes, body frozen in fear. "I'm so glad you were able to overcome the stone, love. For a little while there I thought the souls would overwhelm you." Her hand continued to trail against my skin and I shuddered, whether out of fear or disgust or something else, I could not discern. "I would hate to lose you only having just obtained you." The absolute possession in her voice sent an unsettling tingle of growing horror down my spine. Her breath ghosted against my cheek as she leaned down, deliberately slow. Regaining my senses, I pushed away from her violently with a startled shout, stumbling back several feet and trying to get as far away from her as I could on suddenly numb legs.

I stared, wide eyed, as she languidly folded her abruptly empty arms underneath her generous chest, seeming completely unperturbed by my movements. If anything, her cold eyes crinkled in amusement, smug smirk still firmly in place. My heart pounded loudly in my chest, and I got the distinct feeling of a bug trapped under a microscope.

"I see you still need a little time to adjust, Empathy. Shall I come back later?" She turned away with a flick of her sweeping black hair and began walking. Panic gripped me and I shouted out in denial.

"NO! Wait!" I threw my arm out and stumbled forward, attempting to stop her.

I was not fast enough.

With one last smug glance over her shoulder, Lust the Lascivious disappeared as if through a veil, leaving me utterly alone once more. "No! Where is this place! Let me out! LUST!"

I screamed pointlessly into the white, my tormentress already long, long gone.

"LUUUUUST!"

Just before I could crumple in myself in despair, her alluring voice drifted through the void. "I'll return, my Empathy. Wait for me patiently." Her husky laughs were the last thing I heard other than the sound of my own enraged screams for a long, long while.

I stepped towards where she disappeared, then stepped again. Suddenly I was running, sprinting into the white, and there was no indication that I was moving at all save for the pounding in my ears and the desperate gasps from my lungs, the sound disappearing into the abyss without an echo.

o-0-o

 **AN:**

Well, that was all very dramatic. Going to continue that way for a little while, I'm afraid. But, y'know, the whole 'trapped hero' thing was always one of my favorite parts of any series ever, so sue me for having fun with it. AND before I get a flood of reviews about Lust's behavior, let me just remind you that her name is _Lust._ So there.

Yes, Alex has used that control ability before, it just might take him-and my readers– a while to remember when. And if ya'll think that was too easy, just know that it's not over yet. Oh, is it not over yet. Aaand that's all I'm giving away for now. Hope you enjoyed!

Next chapter: a battle of wills.


	5. Anger

Lust visited me several more times in the next few...days? Months? I couldn't tell. Time didn't seem relevant here, and the only way I might have been able to determine its passage would be changes in my own body. Unfortunately–or perhaps fortunately, if I was being optimistic–there were very few.

I didn't need to eat or sleep at all. It might have been this place, or maybe it was the vast well of energy within me that seemed to fuel all of my needs to stay alive. Either way, there was no need to eat or drink, no need to rest my eyes or body, and thusly there was no need to even pass waste. Should I be grateful for that? In all honesty, I wouldn't have minded making any sort of mess, gross as it was, if only to have a reference to which I could compare my movements. The only proof that I moved at all was the wear I began to notice on the clothes given to me by the homunculi, because not even sweat or oils on my skin were produced anymore. It was absolutely disorienting, and utterly maddening.

Was this place even truly physical? Was I? Was I perhaps in a world within my own insane mind? Because at this point, I wasn't about to discount anything.

I felt like a doll. In one moment of desperation, I even clawed at my own arm to feel the spark of pain and see the red droplets of blood seep before it was once more healed away in a flash of crimson alchemy, just to prove I was still alive. I regretted immediately after the fact, however, disgust welling up within me like nausea for having done myself harm. That was an incredibly dangerous road and no matter how dire I felt my situation now, I could not let myself walk it. Gently drawing my hand over the already healed wound, almost in an apology to myself, I made a promise aloud that I would never do it again. At the very least, I owed it to myself...or rather, Alexandria, whom I had difficulty even associating myself with anymore without nearly drowning in painful memories. I owed it to everyone who once loved her, and to the people who raised her.

But I wasn't that woman anymore. And I never would be again. Truth had forever taken that path from me...but no. It hadn't been Truth, had it? The supposed deity may have interfered, but even he had admitted that he only became aware of the transmutation that brought me here after it began before he reached his insidious fingers.

Edward was the one who brought me to Amestris. He, after coercing his brother to help, had destroyed me in the very beginning, before Truth even knew of my existence. And our youngest brother...no, _his_ younger brother….he didn't stop him. Alphonse _knew_ in his heart that what they were about to do was wrong, but he still…!

Bitterness and anger like I had not felt since I was forcefully brought to this world swirled within me, an anger that I thought I had forgiven the brothers for. And maybe I had, at one point, until I saw what really happened that night, all those long years ago. That was before I saw the truth; that on that night, my family was slaughtered utterly. It was relentless. After all we had been through, all we had seen together and learned of each other, I could not let it go. Not now, not after I watch as they made the same damn mistake a _second time_. Hadn't they learned from their mistakes? Hadn't they done enough!?

Edward put his hands to that damn circle, and Alphonse couldn't stop him, and they–they didn't just destroy me and my family this time. I could feel the souls within me howling in agony, the same agony I felt a but a hundred- _thousand_ fold. How? How could Ed think that either Alphonse or I would want him to do that, would want him to participate in the mass genocide of thousands just to–what? SAVE us? _It wasn't worth the price_. I would have died first–even wanted to! Why, why, why–I cringed and clutched at my chest as the souls in my stone reacted to the tumultuous emotions. Forcefully, I took a deep breath and shoved the thoughts away, trying to think of anything else.

But there was no distractions here. I merely turned to another unsettling matter.

The disassociation with who I was went further than just no longer being Alexandria. I didn't know if I could even think of myself as Alex anymore. Even the boy I had become–brother of Alphonse and Edward Elric, trained by Orkan and Izumi Curtis and the Flame Alchemist, friend and ally to so many in this world–no longer seemed to be who I was. I couldn't think of myself as those boys' brother anymore. Not after what happened and what I was forced to become. And I could not even associate myself with the boy my various masters had trained, because that boy had at least been human. Or, at least I thought he was. All of the familial bonds and friendships were all for Alex. Alex, who was like a surrogate nephew to Orkan, or a dear friend to Roy Mustang, two people who had been able to repeatedly drag me from the dark.

I was no longer that boy.

All of the changes I had been going through, the resentment building within me as I began to become more and more inhuman, had done more than terrify and make me distance myself from everyone I loved. It made me doubt my very humanity, and the genuineness of my soul. It was as if I was becoming something else, something monstrous, as my strength increased and my eyes changed, and I began to lose control.

This dark mood and circular thoughts tortured me during my time in the nothingness, only perpetuated by the negative emotions of the stone within me, catching me off guard with its intensity every time I let my shields down. I was getting better at controlling it but...It was hard. Every time I lost focus for even a moment I would be consumed by their despair and terror, and even though I knew it was only a fraction of the volume the stone no doubt contained, it was still nearly enough to drive me mad before I could gain control again. Whatever this mysterious new power I had over the emotions held in the stone was the only thing standing between me and insanity. I fervently thanked any deity out there that might be listening that I wasn't given the power to read minds or something. It would have been infinitely worse to share every trapped soul's memories.

Oh wait, the deity of alchemy was responsible for my empathy powers in the first place. Bastard.

God, I'm a mess.

That was how Lust found me for the fifth time. Once more I struggled with the souls inside of me, arms wrapped around my folded legs and focus drawn inward to hold them at bay. I sensed her presence–both with relief that I hadn't been left here to rot for eternity and an equal amount of hatred and a want for her to be gone– but as I had the last three times she visited, ignored it. It was clear the homunculus wasn't intending to release me from my prison until I acquiesced to her demands, no matter how I screamed at her.

Like that was ever going to happen.

"Empathy…" Lust whispered silkily from behind me. I blocked her out and clenched my arms about me tighter, but I knew it would be useless before long. I could sense her getting closer to me, her presence so obvious against the void when in the physical world I couldn't feel her at all. I could almost hear her sharp heels clicking against the floor, though I knew it was only my imagination. There was nothing real here but us.

"Empathy," she said again, but this time with an obvious pout. She stopped right behind me, so close I could feel her heat radiating off my back. A gloved hand gently slid through my loose hair, and I resisted the urge to flinch away in disgust. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. "You can't ignore me forever, young one," she continued, a simper in her voice. Her touch became bolder, cold fingers beginning to slide down my neck, and I couldn't stand it any longer.

"What do you want," I snapped, a glare set firmly on my face as I slapped her hand away. I grimaced at her pleased expression, that smug look she wore every time her taunting got me to acknowledge her.

Instead of answering, the woman joined me on the floor, tucking her shapely legs beside her, the black fabric opening to expose white skin, and sitting much too close for comfort. The seductress lifted a delicate hand and removed a long black strand of hair behind her bare shoulder, the black tresses seeming to nearly cling to her pale skin in a caress, before fluttering down her back. Red-violet eyes locked onto mine in a 'come hither' look holding such intensity that I had no illusion that if I had been attracted to women in the least, I would have been her slave long ago. As it was, I had a sneaking suspicion that the homunculus possessed an additional power to her strength just as I did, and it was most likely the ability to incite desire in any human she came across.

But I wasn't human, and her powers no more worked on me than mine did on her. I glared balefully, unimpressed, though I couldn't help but shudder at the raw lust she directed towards me. It wasn't a look I had ever seen on any suitor who had pursued me in the past. It was as if her desire was more than physical, as if she wanted to _own_ me.

I didn't know if it was I who inspired this in her, or just her nature, but I sincerely did not want to find out. Her regard made my skin crawl.

Examining my reactions closely, but not seeming to be at all put out by them, a slow smile pulled at her painted lips, and she finally answered. "I want what I've wanted since I witnessed your creation; for you to join us."

With some effort, I bit back the scathing retort I usually had for her 'want'. It had gotten me nowhere in the past–however the hell long I've been trapped here– and I was getting really, really tired of this place, and really tired of being imprisoned with my own treacherous thoughts to keep me company.

"You keep saying that," I said slowly with a strained voice, extremely reluctant to even be talking to this creature after all she has done. I studiously ignored the glint of triumph in her eyes, no doubt for my finally agreeing to talk to her, barely holding back the abuse I wanted to shout. "You keep saying...that you want me to join you. But you've never told me who you people are and what you want."

Pearled white teeth flashed beneath her red lips, and I couldn't help but notice with some small distraction that they were as flawless as the rest of her. Man, I've really been trapped here too long… "Tell me something, Empathy…" she said, ignoring my question. "Are you angry?"

I glared, eye twitching slightly and barely holding back a sarcastic retort. What kind of ridiculous question was that? Of _course_ I was angry. It was probably the only emotion I could successfully hold onto in my absurdly unstable state.

Her eyes glinted, and she leaned forward, almost imploring. "Why are you angry, young one?"

"Why?" I whispered in disbelief, voice shaking. As if summoned, the very anger we spoke of spiked almost painfully, and any semblance of control I was clinging to fled the building. I let go of my legs and leaned forward into her face threateningly. "Why am I angry? You know why, you smug _bitch_." My voice deepened until I almost didn't recognize it in my anger, my newly gained baritone taking the fore. "I was pulled here against my will, pulled into this freakish body and put through so much SHIT by YOU and by EVERYONE ELSE in this insane world! _I never wanted this!"_

"You're angry at those who brought you here," Lust said swiftly, not backing off an inch. Her voice was infuriatingly calm, and almost soothing in nature. It only made me angrier. "You're angry because control of your life was taken from you."

Fury burned in my veins, and my hands clamped onto her shoulders tightly, nails digging into her fair skin. "And what _right_ do you have to say that! YOU put this damn thing in me! You–"

"But it wasn't me." Lust grabbed onto my hands with immense strength and I gasped in pain and surprise, having foolishly forgotten her power in my anger. She pried my hands off of her and leaned forward, pushing me back. "It wasn't me who brought you here. I wasn't the one who created you. It was those _humans_."

I flinched from those words, not able to deny their truth. She latched onto my weakness viciously. "It was those boys who brought you here, and those humans who were so _selfish_ as to rip you from your life just to fill a void in _theirs_!" I stared in shock as her voice only seemed to become pained, fury seeping into her own eyes. "It was those humans who destroyed everything you once had, because they couldn't accept death, and they didn't care who they were hurting to get what they wanted! They used you as a _substitute_ for someone they could never get back, and once they realized that you weren't good enough, they _tried to get rid of you!_ "

I sat, mouth agape, as the woman fell into a ringing silence. She was nearly on top of me now, and I could feel as her shoulders trembled. I got the distinct feeling that it wasn't just me she was talking about anymore, and yet her words struck a deep and painful chord within me. She released my hands, her own falling to her sides and her eyes closing.

We sat still for several seconds, and I was entirely unable to respond, having no idea how. What she was saying...it sounded like it was from experience. What was going on…? Unbidden, my hand lifted slowly towards her, almost as if to comfort her, before abruptly dropping it, remembering who it was that was on my lap. Before I could even contemplating getting her the hell out of my space, her eyes opened slowly.

I gasped at the emotion I saw there. This was not what I had expected. This was not the vicious woman who had impaled me and fought with me and tried to take my freedom. There was...sadness in her eyes, a longing I had only seen reflected in my own image. She almost seemed…

A second later it was gone, and Lust pulled back, resuming her previous seductive pose. Still, despite the return of her composure, her voice remained gentle when she finally spoke again.

"What you want, what you are so desperately seeking...what was so cruelly taken from you. We can give it back."

"And what's that," I whispered blankly, completely thrown. I felt numb, and nothing seemed to make sense any more. I felt precarious in that moment, as another upset to my understanding, just one more thing, would send me falling onto a path I did not want to go down, either direction inescapably ending in my ruin. Unfortunately for me, what she would say next would cement that calamity.

Her eyes glimmered, the red standing out starkly in the colorless surroundings where even her skin appeared white. They capture me with that same look, the desire, but it wasn't just for me this time, but a desire for something I couldn't see. "Your humanity."

o-0-o

Deep in the tunnels beneath Central, a small flame lit the darkness with its flickering red light. The fire did nothing to warm the moist cold, and seemed to struggle and waver wildly just to stay alight while the damp pressed in. Neither of the beings occupying the space needed nor particularly desired the small light, but it was alight all the same, for the woman who came to meet them preferred it that way.

Envy sat on top of a section of a fallen wall, not particularly concerned with the apparent lack of secure structure of the tunnel around him. There was very little that could kill him, and if anything, it might be a fun distraction to dig himself out. Especially if it could cause those silly humans aboveground some chaos. He kicked a pebble by his foot sulkily, knowing that that wouldn't go over well with Wrath. Such was the boredom that was his life. The slim homunculus tapped his fingers impatiently, paying no mind to the lump of a companion he was stuck with. He flicked his long spiked hair over his shoulder and tried to keep himself from just up and leaving in a fit of pique. That woman better hurry up or so help him…

"Lust?" The other being in the tunnel whispered the name of his master with longing, and Envy snorted at him in disgust.

"Yes, yes, she'll be here soon," he said to the whiney creature beside him. Honestly, he had no idea why Lust kept this disgusting thing around with her. It was repulsive, and quite insane.

Gluttony tilted his fat head to the side, large malformed finger stuck in his mouth as it always was. Envy could hardly imagine what the pathetic lump had been like before the fool had allowed his nature to destroy him. It was a wonder Father didn't just kill him and start over. Wouldn't be the first time…

"Now, now," a voice came from the darkness, "no need to look so upset, Envy."

Envy rolled his eyes. "Well look who decided to show up."

Lust sauntered out of the darkness, all perfect curves and seductive beauty that never failed to send a shiver of disdain down Envy's back. Stupid smug...He leaned back and thrust his hips forward to show off his lithe form, as always, feeling the distinct need to compete. Lust's eyes sparkled in derisive amusement, causing Envy to grind his teeth.

"Lust!" Gluttony, the oaf, broke the tension between them with his exuberance to see 'his' Lust arrive. Both homunculi looked barely glanced at him, Envy with disgust and Lust with resigned indulgence, before ignoring him, as always. It wasn't as if he ever had anything intelligent to add to the conversation anyway.

"So what gives," Envy said with a smug grin. "Any luck with the kid? Or are your charms just not good enough this time?"

A brief flash of annoyance glinted in Lust's eyes, but it was immediately taken over by such a self satisfied look that Envy's smile dropped. "Oh, I'm not having any trouble with that one." She looked dismissively at her nails, and the envious homunculus ground his teeth.

"Then where is the brat if you have him so under control?"

"I have him trapped in his own Infinity."

Envy couldn't help but wince, though his grin returned in pleasure at someone else's misfortune. "Ouch. That's pretty harsh, even for you. How much time has passed for him?" Even he thought that was cruel. A person's infinity is the place within them that holds their Gate, the source of their alchemy in those that could use it. There was no Gate for homunculi however, so it was merely an empty void. One's perception of time always passed faster there, so couple days in this world could feel like several months in an Infinity.

"Well, let's see," Lust said, bringing a finger to her lips innocently, eyes crinkling. "Now, how many days ago did we get the boy to create the philosopher's stone…?"

The question was rhetorical, and Envy began laughing uproariously at the cruelty of it all. "Hah, that kid must be going nuts!" He chuckled for several more moments before leaning forward with a broad grin. "So tell me, my devious friend. Has he come to heel yet?"

Lust closed her eyes demurely, as if remembering a beautiful memory. "I believe I've almost gotten through to him…"

"Too long," Envy complained with a pout, while Gluttony looked between the two curiously. "We don't have time for this." The homunculus suddenly smiled. "Maybe what he needs is a little extra incentive. I've noticed a couple of rats in the sewers lately. Ishvalans."

"So," Lust dismissed. "The boy would hardly care about that."

Envy raised his pointer finger in the 'wait' sign before waving it back and forth smugly. "You're trying to control him with his anger, right? Well, I spotted someone with the little Ishies that might juuuust tip the scales."

"Oh? And who might that be," Lust said, interested.

Envy leaned forward, eyes glinting dangerously with delight. "The one they call Scar."

Slowly, a smile pulled at the beautiful woman's lips, devious as her partner's. That...just might do the trick. Someone who had attacked him before, someone who he could hate without reservation.

Oh, yes. This was getting interesting.

o-0-o

AN:

Hello, friends. I hope it doesn't feel like I'm dragging this part on too long. I just want everyone to understand Alex's headspace, or else later his motivations won't make much sense.

Thanks as always for sending your love. This story is still going strong, and I have no end of ideas for it, but your kind words really do make me want to work faster, so thanks.

Next Chapter: A choice


	6. A Choice

Roy Mustang stared out into the disgustingly cheerful day from his office window, squinting into the light with a pained grimace. He pinched the bridge of his nose between tired eyes and tried to will his exhaustion away. It was a rare moment of peace between the chaos of the last week, and he was immensely grateful for it. The colonel hadn't slept well, not since...well, he didn't like to think about it. He turned his blurred eyes to the overly white courtyard through his window, the reflection of the sun bright and abrasive to his tired eyes.

While Hughes had been investigating the frankly disturbing condition of the 'abandoned' fifth lab, Roy had been facing his own battlefield. To say the very least, the higher-ups were not happy. The official story told was that Scar had infiltrated the lab for reason unknown, and Edward and his brothers had taken it upon themselves to follow him. The subsequent rescue only put Roy in a heroic light, ruffling the feathers of many among the brass who believed his swift ascension in the ranks to be a threat to their positions. Still more unsettling were the generals who scrutinized him with more than just envy, but with something to hide. There was simply no way to tell friend from foe at this point...

Mustang knew that there was blatant corruption in the ranks, and he had no idea just how deep that rot went. Both he and Hughes had been involved in a long standing investigation of the strange military movements of violence towards surrounding nations, most recently the upheaval in Lior, which Roy had only just been able to keep from Edward. It went further than just a warmongering or desire for more land, however. In more than a few cases, it seemed...random, as if there was no reason to start conflict other than for the sake of conflict. And neither one had yet to figure out why. His best friend had been keeping him updated on the results of his investigation in Lab Five, a place Hughes had long held suspicions of, which pulled up a rather unsettling list of military leaders involved in unethical and downright illegal activity. There was not yet evidence pointing all the way to the top, and Roy was reserving judgement until there was. If the Fuhrer were involved...this country would be in much dire straights than even Mustang believed. But as of now there was no evidence, and Roy would not put forth an accusation until the evidence was irrefutable. He could only hope that his fears were unmitigated.

As for the rest: A major general, a brigadier general, a colonel, and several research alchemists...all were directly involved, and all killed in the past fifteen years. But with the evidence unerringly pointing to a continuation of the experiments...

Mustang was pulled from his dark thoughts by the slowly more and more familiar growl of his newest companion, a chimera by the name of Jäger. He turned slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust back to the darkness of his office, and peered around the obscene amount of paperwork covering his desk–an unfortunately commonplace sight– to regard the small animal. Jäger was sprawled out amongst a ruined stack of paper, disregardless of the importance of the documents. His long scaled body was feline in build, but had a reptilian exterior. Lately his emerald green scales had dulled to a sickly brown, and Mustang was resigned to the fact that he would be cleaning up the creature's shed skin in the near future. He wondered idly just how big the reptilian cat would grow...maybe it was part lion or komodo dragon. It's long tail, curled like a chameleon, led credence to the former, as no large lizard had a tail for climbing trees. But really, Mustang was no alchemist to judge. He didn't know much about bio alchemy after all...could be a combination of many.

Another growl and a agitated swish of said tail snapped Mustang out of his musings once more, and the Flame Alchemist rubbed his eyes with a low groan. Jäger's attention only meant one thing; someone was at his office door. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to deal with another pompous General. If he had to listen to one more reprimand about his foray into the Lab, he would set someone on fire. It was flattering that most of the higher-ups found him a threat to their positions, just as equally concerning, and most definitely annoying.

The sharp rap of Hawkeye's familiar hand against the door caused Jäger to hiss and leap from the desk, hiding underneath it swiftly. Vaguely amused by this behavior, Mustang was just glad he didn't have to train the beast to do it. He had managed to keep it secret from the brass so far, and he would like to keep it that way.

"Enter," Mustang said with tired resignation, swiftly sweeping the ruined pile of paperwork into a messy heap behind his desk, out of sight of the door. With a quiet creek, Hawkeye stepped inside, clipboard clutched to her chest and slightly troubled expression on her face.

"Sir," she said softly, for once conscious of Roy's discomfort, causing the colonel's lips to twitch fondly before falling back into blankness. She had been going easy on him the last few days, taking on much of his executive work, for which Roy was grateful. He had been focussing on damage control, and her support was very much needed to keep further scrutiny off his back.

"Who is it," he asked, very tempted to draw the words out into a whine.

A small smile quirked on Hawkeyes lips, though her eyes remained strained. "It's Edward, sir. He's come to report in before he leaves."

"So soon," Roy mused, a bit surprised. Edward was already able to walk? He shook his head, not terribly shocked. After all, it was Fullmetal they were talking about. The boy couldn't rest to save his life. Roy huffed in amusement. Irony abound. "Send him in."

With a small bow, Hawkeye left the room. A second later, Edward entered, a noticeable hitch in his step. Mustang watched with a critical eye as his charge walked slowly to his desk. He did look a bit better, with more color in his cheeks then he rightly had before, but still looked like hell. His hair was now cropped neatly against the back of his head, exposing his neck, while his bangs remained untouched beside his face. The style made him look decisively older. The haunted look in his shadowed eyes didn't help with the image, making him look beyond his fifteen years. He was once again dressed in his favored red coat, but had switched to a looser fitting pair of black pants, no doubt to put less strain on the bandages still covering his wounded hip. Against his chest was a pendant that Mustang did not recognized. It was about four inches across and looked vaguely like a heavy metal locket. Inscribed on the steel was a transmutation circle that the older alchemist easily recognized as the inscription for fortification, and a powerful one at that. Drilled into the center of the locket was a perfectly round hole that from within glowed a steady red light.

Mustang stared at it, puzzled, but dismissed it in favor of Edward, who stopped a bit unsteadily in front of his desk.

"You look like shit," Edward said without preamble, pulling a surprised snort from the older man.

"You're one to talk, Fullmetal," the older man smirked. "I'm no doctor, but shouldn't you be resting? You just had a minor surgery."

Edward grimaced, but didn't disagree, and Roy frowned a bit at the lack of characteristic anger. "Couldn't stay one more minute in that damn hospital. Besides, it's time to move on."

"To Rush Valley."

"That's right. I'm going there to get Alphonse a new body."

Mustang narrowed his eyes, but didn't press. It was between them what they did about Alphonse's situation, but still… "What about Alex?"

Edward shrugged, fatigue pulling at his shoulders and a weariness in his eyes. "Hughes hasn't had any luck finding clues about where they went. We could spend weeks searching Central, but without any leads…"

Roy nodded, conceding the point. Hughes had been combing Lab Five for a week now, and still there was no sign of the missing boy's whereabouts. It was almost as if he never existed, save for the small bag of possessions he left behind, a chimera pining for his lost master, and a small crumpled note that Mustang kept in his uniform pocket.

"I need to take care of the brother I have left…" Edward said softly, almost as if to himself. His eyes were downcast, but a second later he looked back up with a customary grin. "Don't burn down Central without me, Colonel Bastard."

"Heh, wouldn't dream of it, shrimp," Mustang returned with a smirk, comforted by their usual banter. With satisfaction, he watched as the boy's face darkened with anger and idly changed the subject, sidestepping the explosion. "Where is Alphonse, anyway? Surely you wouldn't cart him around in a crate or something."

Edward deflated with a slow hiss, his glare wavering into nervousness. "Of course not," he said, hand hovering over the pendant around his neck, but not quite touching it. Mustang's gaze drawn back to it, and he frowned.

"Ed, you didn't…"

"Shut up! How the hell else was I supposed to do it? He doesn't have legs!" Edward tried to cross his arms, but stopped short of covering the pendant against his chest, awkwardly putting his hands on his hips instead.

"Alphonse is in there…?" Mustang stared, fascinated. The scientist in him was half tempted to examine the item closely, and he took another look at the fortification circle and the little spot of glowing red light in its center. "Well, that explains why you inscribed enough fortification into it to stop a flying mountain," he mused.

"He can hear you, you know," Edward snapped. "And of course I did. It's not like he can defend himself in this state."

 _"Gee, thanks brother…"_ Alphonse's voice filtered through the room, and Roy jumped as it sounded like it was coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, almost as if it resonated in his mind rather than being heard aloud.

Before Mustang could do more than give the pendant a shocked look, a startled yelp and hiss sounded from beneath Roy's desk and Jäger bolted from cover, the insufferable feline clawing its way up Roy's pants and up onto his shoulders. The man cringed and thanked his lucky stars that the chimera climbed with sticky paws rather than the formidable claws it kept retracted. "Urgh," he grunted as it wrapped around his neck, tail circling him twice. It glared out at around the room balefully, low growl in its chest.

Edward stared with wide eyes at the disgruntled animal before letting out a loud guffaw. "That thing's still around? Get yourself a new boyfriend Mustang?"

"Haha," Roy intoned, doing his best to loosen the grip around his neck. "Please tell me you're taking your brother's pet with you?"

"Not a chance," Edward said with a grimace of disgust. "I never liked that thing in the first place."

 _"Don't lie, brother,"_ Alphonse chuckled, and Roy was at least glad to hear a spark of amusement from the boy who was clearly in a very undesirable situation, even if the sound of his voice made the silly beast grip him tighter, _"Jäger's grown on you."_

"Not as much as he's grown on Mustang," Ed shot back. "And I don't care what you say, Al, we still can't take care of it. I would just as soon dump it in the nearest forest."

 _"You know how much Alex loves that thing,"_ Al said softly. _"He would be heartbroken if it disappeared…"_

Edward opened his mouth angrily, but then closed it slowly, eyes taking on a thoughtful air. "Yeah," was all he said.

Mustang, clearly feeling that he had already lost, sighed in resignation. "Fine," he said sullenly. "I'll keep the stupid animal. Just make sure when you get Alex back that I never see the damn thing again."

Edward flashed him a smug grin. "You got it, bastard."

"Hn. I don't suppose I could convince you to take along a guard detail...ah, though not," he cut himself off with a wave at the growing look of rebellion on Edward's face.

"Not a chance! The last guard you foisted on me ended up slapping me in the face," Ed said sullenly, rubbing at his cheek. Roy couldn't help but chuckle. Ross did that, huh? Well, it wasn't like Ed didn't deserve it for running off like he did.

 _"You deserved it, brother,"_ Alphonse reprimanded, echoing Roy's thoughts.

"Shadup, Al. You didn't exactly protest when we left either." He suddenly grinned evilly. "Though it was rather hilarious when Brosh tried to slap you in the face too."

 _"Heh, yeah. Wonder if his hand's okay…"_

"Alright, alright," Mustang intoned, waving his hand at the ridiculous pair. "Enough with the chitchat, I have work to do."

With a mock salute, Edward turned to make his slow way back to the door, step still painfully hitched but just a little lighter than it had been in days.

"Oh, and Fullmetal," Mustang called at his retreating back. Edward looked back over his shoulder, annoyed. "You are under close scrutiny. Be careful."

"Colonel," Edward said, false sincerity verily dripping from his voice atop a fake smile. "We're always careful." The look dropped, and his voice became as serious as Roy's. "If you hear anything…"

"I know. We'll find him, Ed."

With one last flash of his golden eyes, Edward closed the door behind him, leaving the colonel once more alone with his own thoughts. He turned his gaze back out into the blinding white of the day, disregarding the chimera now purring in his ear. Roy placed his gloved hand to the note burning in his pocket, and sincerely hoped he could keep that promise.

o-0-o

Edward let out a long sigh. His head was rested against his hand, which was propped against the window of their compartment as he watched the countryside fly by. Heavy on his chest, he could feel Alphonse's temporary container bump every now and then as the train shifted. The metal was warm against his skin, and almost seemed to vibrate against his soul with Alphonse's familiar presence. As it was, the constant reassurance that Al was still with him despite his state was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind with stress. He grumbled again, wishing Al would let him touch his container, if only for Ed to comfort himself. But after the first few times he blocked Al's sight, or rather the small hole in the center that was currently serving as his 'eyes', Al had had enough and threatened to hit him upside the head the second he had his new body if Ed did it again.

"You're doing it again," Winry admonished, not looking up from the draft paper sprawled out before her in the cramped space.

"Doing what," Ed grumbled, not even glancing in her direction

 _"Growling,"_ Alphonse said, and Edward couldn't help but shudder in slight discomfort at the way his voice seemed to resonate within him instead of being heard. It wasn't like Al's voice disturbed him, it was just...he didn't like seeing him this way. Without a body...Ed squirmed inside just thinking about the pain his younger brother must be going through. The extraction process of Alphonse's soul had nearly brought him to tears with fear that he might lose him again. Al's calm reassurances the entire time was the only thing that helped him to get through cutting the small circle of metal that contained his soul seal from the rest of the ruined armor.

For a split second, Alphonse had stopped responding. It was only a second, but Edward felt like his heart had been ripped out only to be shoved back in his throat to choke him.

 _"Al! AL!" Edward clutched at the small piece of his brother's body, from which he could no longer hear his familiar voice. "AAAAL!" Terror tore through him as his hands trembled, and he nearly stopped breathing for it. NO, no, not my little brother, please, PLEASE, don't leave me alone, I can't–_

 _It was only Winry's firm slap to his face that pulled him out of his sudden panic, and he was finally able to hear Alphonse shouting through his mind. "EDWARD! Edward, listen to me, I'm here!"_

 _"Alphonse?" Edward whispered and gazed down at the seal, the metal warm and resonating in his hands, and familiar voice echoing in his mind. "Al, what happened?"_

 _"I'm sorry, brother. I just needed a moment to adjust. I feel...compressed."_

 _"You idiot! Let me put you back–this isn't worth it! What if–"_

 _"NO." Alphonse's firm denial echoed loudly, cutting Edward off. "This is my choice, brother."_

 _Edward bit his lip harshly, lungs threatening to leap out of his chest. Slowly he pushed it down. He knew. He knew how hard being that inhuman suit of armor had been for his brother. He knew that automail could make him feel closer to humanity and Edward himself than he had in years. He knew that. And he would move the world to make it happen. "...Okay." He bit back his fear, for his brother's sake. "Okay, Al. Let's go."_

"I hate trains," Edward said, shaking off the memory and trying his best to hide his discomfort.

Winry was not fooled, and she glanced at him sternly from her work. "He's going to be okay, Edward. We can do this."

"I…I know," Ed said softly, lightly tapping the precious piece of metal on his chest.

 _"So Winry,"_ Al said, attempting to lighten the mood. _"How is this going to work, exactly?"_

"Hmm," the young woman responded, looking to Alphonse's soul piece with a reassuring smile. "I'm not entirely sure. As far as the arms and legs go, we can just purchase those and make adjustments. The torso and head though…" She trailed off, using her pencil to scratch at her head. She stuck out her tongue cutely, and Edward rolled his eyes. "I think we are going to need to find a blacksmith. Nothing like this has ever been constructed before." Her eyes suddenly sparkled with enthusiasm. "Oooh, I can't wait to get to work! This is going to be the automail breakthrough of the century!"

"We can't tell anyone about this, Winry," Ed said sullenly, still glaring out the window. Winry pouted.

"And why not? It isn't like anyone will know what we do with it."

"No means no!"

 _"Guys, come on…"_ Al said placatingly.

The young woman sat back with a huff and crossed her arms. "We can't hide this project, Ed. I'm going to need at least three people to help me pull it off if you want to get out of Rush Valley anytime soon." Her gaze softened. "We don't have too much time. Alex won't be able to wait forever."

Silence fell between the three, all acutely missing the presence of their friend. But Winry smiled once again after a moment, not able to keep her excitement contained. "Al, your body is going to be my greatest creation! You'll look exactly like a human with clothes on!"

"How are we going to accomplish that, anyway? We're going to have to cover him from head to toe," Ed said thoughtfully.

"No idea," Winry said. "That's your job. Mine is to find a blacksmith and an automail mechanic to help with the build."

"Yeah, yeah."

 _"I wonder what I'll look like…"_ Al said wistfully. _"I can't wait to be able to move around again."_

Edward and Winry exchanged a worried look, then the girl smiled. "You're going to look awesome, Al, just you wait."

o-0-o

AN:

Hello again, friends. Here's the next installment for you. So yeah, Al's body will be made from automail! Partial credit goes to Shiloh Moon, whose thoughts let me to that great idea! You know, now that I think of it, why didn't anyone think of this before? I mean, automail. It's kind of obvious haha.

So Al's made his choice. And he's going to look soooo cool. How do I know this? Because I drew him! I'll let you guys know when I post that on my deviantart so you won't have just my descriptions to rely on.

Meh, sorry if anyone's confused about my switching perspectives so often. There's a reason I named this book Divergence, because it is literally a story of separation. But really it's reading just like the anime, so I'm not too worried.

Next chapter: A mask and a thief.


	7. A Mask and a Thief

The scenery gradually changed as they headed further south, the land going from forest to craggy slopes and eventually mountainous canyons. When they finally stepped off the train half a day later there was only one thing on Edward's mind.

"Uuugh, it's so hot!" Edward slumped forward dramatically, dragging his suitcase along behind him. "How can this possibly be the birthplace of automail when we are practically in the desert!"

"Ed," Winry rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a baby. We're hardly in the desert. Besided, there are rich ore mines here which make the perfect materials for automail." She skipped half a step in excitement, her infectious smile growing with every step they took. Edward gave her a wary glance, feeling as though somehow he was going to regret bringing her along.

Rush Valley, true to it's name, was settled between the walls of a massive canyon, the red of the stone seeming to radiate sunlight even when the sun was behind its peaks. It was hardly the onset of spring, yet the temperature had already reached a level of 'uncomfortably hot'. Buildings sprawled and stacked haphazardly on each other in the slopes and in the valley itself, none more than a few stories tall.

" _Wow, there really a lot of automail users here,"_ Alphonse commented as they wandered into town from the station. And indeed, it seemed as though every third person was fitted with an arm or a leg, each wearing it openly and with pride. They wore their fits as though they were something to brag about. Edward shifted in discomfort. He had never been quite comfortable displaying his automail to the world. It wasn't really self-consciousness, but rather the dark secret behind how he obtained it. He shrugged, though, as he realized that no one loses a limb without having a terrible story to tell. And it _was_ rather hot…

"EEeee! Automail, automail, everywhere! Oh, this is like a dream come true!" Winry couldn't keep her eyes glued to one place, and Edward idly wondered whether she would end up with whiplash as she rushed forward, whipping her head back and forth. He couldn't help but smile fondly as he watched, however. He always had enjoyed making her happy, and didn't often get the chance. Urgh. He just knew he would be buying her all sorts of toys on top of Al's new body. He sincerely hoped his combined savings would be enough.

A gimmer caught Edward's eye, and he stopped, peering into a store window. A large blue gemstone sparkled brightly inside a jewelry display, set in a gaudily decorated band of pure silver, the shine almost blinding him. " _Hey, isn't that one of the stones from Xenotime,"_ Al wondered aloud.

"Yeah, I think so." Edward couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. "I guess they've been doing well if their work had made it all the way out here."

Unbidden, a memory flashed in Edward's mind.

 _It was a couple months after the events in Xenotime, and the three brothers stopped in a town not far from their next mission. It was a small village, boasting only two hotels, but was well known for its plentiful open markets. It was a stop and a much needed break for the boys who had been traveling for almost half a year._

 _Edward and his brothers walked slowly on their way to find a place to stay for the night, when Alex paused, drawing the attention of Al and Ed._

 _His green gaze was fixed on a stall a few feet away, where a collection of beautifully crafted rings were displayed. "Alex, what is it," Edward grumbled, feeling quite tired and ready to take a long bath after their forced stay on a train._

 _Thier brother didn't seem to hear him however, and continued to seem fascinated by the glimmering objects. His expression was unreadable as he walked towards the stall to take a closer look. The boy picked up a simple silver ring with a rouge gem in the center, a small, happy smile pulling at his lips while he admiringly turned it in the light._

" _Hello, there," the owner of the stall, a man in his late thirties, greeted Alex cheerfully. "That stone was imported from out of the country, very rare! Are you in the market for a gift for a lady friend, young man?"_

 _Edward watched in puzzlement as Alex seemed to flinch at the man's words. Setting the ring down gently, his smile turned a bit derisive. "Ah, no. I'm afraid I don't have anyone like that. I just...never mind." With a polite nod, he turned away from the puzzled shopkeeper, walking between Ed and Al and taking the lead without turning back. Alphonse and Edward exchanged a worried glance before Ed caught up with Alex's retreating form._

" _Hey, Alex, wait!"_

Alphonse's voice brought Edward out of his recollection, and the buzz of their surroundings intruded once more. " _Do you think Alex would have liked it…?"_

"Nah," Edward said, remembering the ring. "I think he likes the smaller stuff." Before he could look at the other pieces on display, a loud squeal drew his attention back to Winry. She stood on the other side of the road, hands pressed against her face in excitement. He wandered over to see what had her so worked up, and wasn't surprised to see an overpriced, shiny automail arm set in a display of red velvet.

"OH, it's perfect! The newest edition of the God Series! Ed, Ed!" She turned her glittering eyes onto the unsuspecting blond, and Edward frowned in trepidation.

"Winry, come on! You could build an automail body twice over with the price they want for this thing. And it's only a forearm," he said sternly.

Winry crossed her arms with a pout. "Yeah, I know, quit being such a stiff Ed...Oooh! What's that!"

Ed grabbed her arm before she could wander off again. "Win, remember why we are here, okay?"

"I remember," she snapped, pulling her arm back. "Look, just meet me at the hotel tonight. I'm going to have a look around and try to find a blacksmith first. You guys just...I dunno, entertain yourselves!"

With that, she dumped her suitcase on Edward and rushed off before the blond could even gape in shock. Alphonse's chuckle resonated through his mind, and could feel his cheeks heat up.

" _She sure told you,"_ he said.

"Shadup, Al! Geeze, what an automail freak!"

" _You should know better than to get in between Winry and her automail, brother."_

"Yeah, yeah–urgh! What does she have in this thing?" Ed tried to lift the mechanic's case with one arm, but had to resort to using two. "How has she even been carrying this around. It's, like, fifty pounds!"

" _Heh, well, she is a mechanic. She probably brought her tool set with her."_

"Yeah, right. More like a dead body if you ask me…"

A half hour later, and Edward had managed to dump both his and Winry's cases at the hotel. After a second of hesitation, he left his coat as well, knowing he would just overheat if he kept it on. That hadn't stopped him before but...well maybe, just maybe, the atmosphere of this town was making him feel a little better about his automail. After all, he wouldn't stand out, and these people probably knew better than to ask questions. Besides, who knew how long they would have to stay here.

"What do you think, Al? Should we look around?" Ed looked down at the pendant around his neck, setting his now bare arms against his hips.

" _Yeah,"_ Al said, happiness in his voice causing Edward to smile. Alphonse's continuing optimism was making this whole process much easier.

"Heh, come on, let's go. There has to be something other than automail to do in this town while we wait."

o-0-o

Alphonse watched the world go by, his vision swaying drunkenly from the way Edward's walking moved his temporary form. The experience was quite strange, and yet he couldn't really bring himself to feel sorry about it. It had been his choice, after all, and to complain now would be counter-productive.

Being within the confines of the small piece of metal made the boy feel strangely compressed. Alphonse wasn't sure if it was the result of his soul actually having some sort of a physical size, which he found to be somewhat of a strange concept, or if it was a psychological reaction to perceiving himself as smaller. His perception of the world didn't seem any different, as he had long since gotten used to the way he 'saw' out of the armor. Even though he only seemed to have one 'eye', his vision wasn't impaired in the least, just how when Alex had covered the eye slots in his armor it didn't block his vision. He still sensed it, but if he focussed past it he could block it out. But that only worked with something close by. It was strange...he couldn't really describe it. However there was no denying the fact that while everything in the world was normal sized, he was smaller, and thus it was a strange feeling to have to 'look up' at his older brother (or from what he could figure, it was more like he was expanding his awareness in a certain direction), who was usually so much shorter than him. In any case, he couldn't wait till he had a body again.

He knew he was being selfish with this, knew that there was more important things that they should be doing, like getting their brother back or researching the philosopher's stone. But he couldn't help being selfish just this once, even if it made him feel guilty. Just because he didn't like being in the armor didn't mean he should be demanding a new body, whether his older brother could afford it on his absurd military salary or not. But it was just so...his doubts about his own humanity had been so painful, and the thought of returning to that form brought him no end of discomfort even now. It wasn't like automail was going to make him human, but...but Edward had it, didn't he? One time, while they had been between missions, Al had asked about it.

" _It's like...I dunno. Even though I know it's not, it's like my automail is a part of me, not just metal and wires. It took a long time, but I've even started to think about it as my arm and leg. It's just part of who I am now."_

His voice had sounded so resigned and discouraged at the time, but Alphonse had felt a bit envious. No matter how much time has passed, he could not see the armor as himself, or as his body. It was too cold, unfeeling...hollow. If Edward could think of his automail as part of himself, then so could Al. And it wasn't just that. In the armor, he couldn't do such simple things like hug his brothers for comfort, or walk through a doorway without ducking in the risk that his head might fall off, or not scare small children when he walked by, or–or–

He was doing it again. That self-pity thing. Alex's voice reprimanded him in his mind, just as he would have if he had still been there. Al shook it off, trying to harness that optimism he had been doing such a good job of projecting as of late.

"Hey Al, look. This place looks interesting." Edward pointed to a small shop at the corner of one busy street and another. Unlike the other stores, it didn't look overly crowded. "Xing Imports" was printing on a sign above the door, but what really drew Alphonse's attention was the brightly colored robes on display, like nothing either boy had ever seen before.

"Is that silk? I've never seen fabric like this before," Edward mused as he entered the shop. "I somehow can't imagine someone wanting to wear such a brightly colored getup."

Alphonse couldn't help but feel amused by that statement, considering just how much Edward loved his flashy red coat. He stayed quiet, however, realizing that it would seem strange to hear a disembodied voice in the quiet and empty shop where it couldn't be mistaken for somebody else's.

"Those are ceremonial robes," a voice came from within the shop, and both brother's looked to the young woman who spoke. She couldn't have been any older than twenty, and she was of eastern origin, with long black hair and slanted black eyes. She smiled sweetly and stopped beside Edward, who felt a flash of sudden smugness to realize that the slight woman was about an inch shorter than him. "They are not quite Xingese, but rather a style similar that is popular here in the South, where the winter festival is celebrated."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Edward mused, touching the bright fabric softly. "They used to have those back in Dublith, remember Al?" His face darkened. "Though we never did get to see it thanks to Teacher's training."

The young saleswoman looked on curiously as he seemed to talk to himself. Her eyes were drawn to the pendant on his chest, and she kept looking around the store in confusion. Edward shifted uncomfortably at her scrutiny. "What is it," he asked gruffly.

"Oh, it's just kind of odd. I keep sensing another chi, but I can't seem to find where it's coming from." She had a hand placed to her mouth, and her eyes seemed to be drawn a bit, unsettled.

Al's curiosity spiked. She could sense him? "What is chi," Edward asked, just as curious.

She smiled. "It is the energy that flows through every person and living thing. As a young girl, I was taught to sense it, though I suppose I'm imagining things right now. I'm sure I would have seen someone else walk through the door."

"Ahaha," Edward laughed nervously and tried to distract her. "Hey, what's that!" He moved further into the store, looking around with interest. There was a variety of curious objects ranged from exotic clothes to foreign weapons, and a pair of strangely curved knives caught Edward's attention. He was about to turn and peruse them, when Alphonse spotted something on the wall.

" _Ed, wait,_ " he said as softly as he could, realizing that the woman was still observing them. " _Look."_

There was a small alcove in the wall, and from within it came a white gleam. Edward walked towards it slowly, getting a better look. It was a white mask, deviod of color save for a small red tear drop below one eye. A simple pattern was carved around the eye slits, just a thin line that mimicked it's shape and added extra depth to the piece. It's expression was totally neutral, but it felt almost...calm. "Hm. Do you think…"

" _Yeah,"_ Al said. " _Though the teardrop is a little much."_

"The symbol beneath the eye is the mark of the clan it comes from." Edward jumped badly as the small woman snuck up on him, clearly overhearing their conversation. He placed his hand over his heart. What the heck was wrong with him? He never let his guard down this much. The woman went on, heedless of his discomfort. "You have an eye for rare items sir. This mask was worn by a great warrior from my country."

"A great warrior, huh…" Edward plucked the mask from its setting, feeling it's sturdy weight. "I like it." Alphonse couldn't help but agree.

"Ah," the Xing girl clapped her hands together with a pleased expression. "It warms my heart that this will be used once more. A warrior's mask was never meant to rest on a shelf, gathering dust." With a knowing look, she latched onto Edward's arm, causing the boy to blush. "Please follow me."

She led the flustered blond behind the shelves to the back corner of the store. "If you take the warrior's mask, you must bestow it on a worthy fighter. And he must also wear this." She paused in front of a display, and both boys looked on appreciatively at what they saw.

Soft black cloth covered a moderately sized mannequin. It's top was hooded, and a long black swath of cloth served as both a scarf and a shroud around it's neck. The chest was covered in a plated armor, black as the fabric behind it, but quite sturdy looking, repeating in plates halfway down the covered arms. It ended in armored gloves at the hands, slightly silver in sheen. Another black swath cinched the belt, which then opened up into loose black pants. Edward lifted the mask still clutched in his hand to the blank face of the mannequin.

Both Alphonse and Edward seemed to resonate in perfect agreement in that moment. Yeah. This could work. It wasn't anything like what either of them had imagined, but…

As the woman carefully packaged Edward's purchase, she casually stated, "You look very familiar."

"Hm," Ed said distractedly, wanting to talk to Alphonse but hating that he couldn't.

"You look just like a boy I met not too long ago." Edward's eyes snapped up in sudden attention, heart jumping a bit. "Although, he had pretty green eyes."

"You've seen my brother," Edward said excitedly, leaning forward and setting his hands on the counter.

"Oh, yes, it must have been." She smiled brightly. "I sold him a jade pendant for his hair, and it matched his eyes so perfectly! I would never forget such a pretty face."

"Oh," Ed deflated slightly in disappointment, but couldn't help feeling a bit amused. "You must have met him in Dublith, then." Alex had shown off that pendant with such fondness when he finally returned from that trip...It was still in Mustang's possession, along with all of his other belongings, and would be until he reclaimed them.

Before Edward could walk out the door, he was once again stopped by her soft voice. "Take care of that, young man. I can tell by your chi that you are worthy of it." Her gaze became piercing. "All three of you."

Ed shuddered as he finally left the small stuffy store and out into the bustling of the street. "She could totally sense you, Al. I've never seen anything like it."

" _Yeah, it was weird, all right. I wonder if all Xingese have that ability."_

"Hm," Ed agreed. "I guess we should head back now. It's getting late."

"Hey kid, hold on a second!" Alphonse's vision was jerked suddenly as a large man grabbed onto Edward's automail arm, pulling him to a stop.

"Hey, what's the big idea–" Ed shouted angrily, but was cut off.

"Oh, wow, I have never seen a model quite like this," the older man enthused, running a finger down Edward's arm. "Hey, Joe, come check this out!"

With alarm, the boys noticed they were gathering a crowd as the automail enthusiast brought attention to them. A multitude of hands passed by Al's gaze as several people attempted to get their hands on Edward's automail. "Ach! What are you people doing, get off!"

"Ah, come on, kid! You can't walk around with a beauty like that and not expect to get some attention!"

For several seconds Edward continued protesting loudly, and Alphonse watched on with some amusement. For once he was glad to see his brother get positive attention for something he was usually so secretive about, even if he was practically being molested by excited engineers.

All good feelings were wiped away a moment later, however, when he felt more than saw himself get separated from Edward in a violent yank. He cried out, but couldn't be heard over the crowd as the world flashed by in dizzying jerks. Through his terror, the boy realized he had been snatched, and someone was running off with him! For several moments, Alphonse couldn't even get his bearings long enough to cry out. The boy panicked, confused. Where was Ed?! Edward! He couldn't move, couldn't do anything!

"Alphonse!" His brother shouted desperately for him, fear in his voice, and Alphonse was about to scream…

When both he and his captor came to a jolting stop. His surroundings spun around Alphonse while he tried to regain his equilibrium. He looked upward.

Al was being tightly gripped by a small hand, a boy no older than twelve clutching Al's vessel to his slim chest. His pale face was pulled taught in a grimace of pain as a large, masculine hand gripped the boy's forearm tightly.

"Oh, my, what do we have here."

o-0-o

AN:

Hi again! One more chapter down. After this little arch, it will cut back to Alex and the gang back in Central, so try not to get too impatient. But in the meantime, we get to have a lot of fun in Rush Valley, yay! Again, partial credit to both Shiloh Moon, who gave me the idea of the Xingese clothes and Pockolypse, who gave me a few ideas about chi. Both these concepts will cause interesting ripples as the story. I always love to hear my reader's thoughts. I don't think my story would have half as much depth if I didn't have anyone to bounce theories off of :)

Also, a little help. Am I using the word Xing properly? As in; 'she/it is Xingese' or 'all Xingese have'? Or is it 'Xingan' just like I would say 'Amestrian'? I'm not sure. I've seen it used both ways.

As always, thanks for the love. I've been getting some great and thoughtful responses lately. Remember, you guys are shaping the story just as much as I am when you react in certain ways. For instance; Jäger wouldn't have such a large role as he is going to if you guys didn't like him so much. And even just a few words saying you like my work makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, and is just as important. See you next time.

Next chapter: the mechanic.


	8. The Mechanic and the Blacksmith

Winry's heart raced as she couldn't believe her eyes. Automail, automail everywhere she looked! Whether it was on someone's body or in store windows and mechanic shops, it was enough to send a tingle of genuine excitement through her body. She just couldn't understand why Edward was being such a stiff about this. Winry Rockbell was in her element, and no sourpuss was going to bring her down!

She just couldn't help it! Growing up in a small town didn't exactly give much opportunity to experience the finer qualities of her craft. Don't get her wrong, Pinako was a fantastic mechanic and teacher, but one couldn't always improve by studying just one style.

But it wasn't just that. Winry paused by a shop and gently placed her hand against the window. Behind it was a simple arm. There were no decorations or embellishments, but it was beautiful in its functionality all the same. The person lucky enough to receive it would be blessed with a mobility and sense of well-being they had only had with their real arm before whatever tragedy had taken it from them. She smiled softly, immensely glad she came. It wasn't easy being the one left behind all the time. Year after year, she could only watch as her dear friends suffered in silence, leaving her to chase after an impossible dream. It always made her feel useless and impotent to watch them walk away from her, time and time again. But there was one thing that Edward always returned for, the one thing she was talented at enough to bring him back.

And that was his automail.

Now she even had the opportunity to give Alphonse the chance to feel human again, and that was more precious to her than all of the automail parts in the world. With a bright smile, Winry moved on, spring in her step, and did her very best to absorb as much as she could in this town while she had the chance.

Eventually, her growling stomach forced her to stop at a small cafe. While she was there attempting to refresh herself from the heat, she inquired around about a blacksmith.

"Blacksmith, huh?" An aging man with an automail hand scratched the back of his head as he thought aloud.

"Not just any blacksmith. I want the best!"

The man let out a loud guffaw. "Well then, little missy, you're going to want to find Skyler's shop, not three streets over." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Just don't forget to mind your head!"

With those mysterious words, the young woman was directed to a small shop on the outskirts of town. The building, slightly separated from the others on the street, seemed to be built into the canyon wall, its entrance a dull grey and its windows shrouded. Large double doors were thrown wide open, though one couldn't see inside of the dark building with the bright sun blazing overhead, save for the occasional flash of cherry red fire, glowing hotly before fading back to blackness. A thick stream of smoke drifted from a large chimney at the top, and a steady banging could be heard from inside. In a flight of fancy, Winry almost imagined that the shop looked like the maw of a great beast.

Winry glanced at the paper in her hand and the number etched over the door one last time before squaring her shoulders and smiling widely. She could do this. It was the first step to building Al's body, and she would find the best blacksmith in town!

She stepped up to the shop and raised her voice a bit, squinting at the change in light. "Ah, excuse me–"

"REFINED? I'll GIVE you refined!" An infuriated shout stopped Winry in her tracks like a physical force, and not a moment later a man stumbled out of the door wearing a terrified expression. He backed away from the shop rapidly as if a rabid animal was chasing him.

"Master Smith, I only meant–AAAhahaaa!" He screamed as a hammer flew end over end from the darkness and slammed into the building behind him with a startling crunch. Both Winry and the man stared at it in utter shock, the blunt piece of metal seemingly imbedded into the stone, before slowly looking back towards the shop.

"Now you listen here, you ignorant scum," a resonating voice came from the darkness, and the man stepped back a couple paces, face draining of all color. "Automail isn't meant to be a damn _embellishment."_ With steady steps a tall figure was revealed from the darkness as they stepped into the light of the afternoon. Winry gasped slightly as she took in the imposing person who was revealed.

Long legs covered in scarred leather met with wide hips and a firm core, revealed by a half shirt. A large bust offset wide, muscled shoulders, and bronzed skin was covered in soot from head to toe. The woman, for she was undoubtedly so, stood at at least six feet and had deceptively beautiful face, and her long black hair, naturally waved, held back by a filthy blue bandana, the same shade as her strikingly intense eyes. Most notable, however, was the hand clenched around a massive hammer, which was automail up to just above her elbow. The scars above her fitting were horrific, shiny white marks that swirled and converged all the way to her shoulder. It almost looked as if she had stuck her arm into an open flame. "Automail isn't beautiful because of flashy engravings or shiny lines. It's beautiful because it is a part of it's owner! I only make the strongest metal plates and parts possible and I will not tarnish its integrity with _decorations._ Now get out of my sight!"

With a shriek and a rapid nod the man scurried down the road, leaving a trail of dust in his haste. "Tch. I don't have time for rich boys who think automail is a toy. Useless." the woman finally seemed to notice Winry, who had been standing aside in awe over the entire display. "And what do you want, little girl?"

Winry jumped, and looked up–and up–until she met the imposing woman's eyes. "Ah, yes," she squeaked, then cleared her throat. "Are you Skyler?"

The woman's face contorted in fury, and Winry took an involuntary step back. The blacksmith pointed her hammer at Winry threateningly and shouted, "That's MRS. Skyler to you!"

"Ah! Yes ma'am!"

"Hn. That's better." Skyler re-shouldered her hammer and gave the girl a onceover. Her face became unreadable and she calmly stated, "What do you want? I have work to do."

"Right!" Winry squared her shoulders and said as confidently as she could. "I need a commission."

"Didn't you hear me earlier, girl," Skyler said dismissively, waving her hand. "I don't do toys. Find someone else." With that she turned back to her shop, already having discounted the young mechanic.

Winry's mouth dropped open in shock, and it was a split second before she regained her composure with a healthy flush of fury, cheeks burning in indignation. Her voice became higher pitched with anger, but firm nonetheless. "Don't you walk away from me!" Skyler paused, looking back over her shoulder in surprise. "You don't even have any idea what I want! Don't you dare just brush me off because I'm young!"

Winry paused, taken aback as Skyler turned bodily towards her with an intimidating glare. Shocked, the young woman realized that she had pulled out one of her larger wrenches without her notice, and quickly dropped it before the formidable smith could take that as a threat. Before she could stow it back away, however, Skyler grabbed her small wrist in a strong, calloused hand, and examined Winry's palm with a critical eye.

Several seconds passed, and circulation began to get cut off from Winry's hand from the firm grip. But Winry did not comment, realizing that she was being tested in some way, and merely glared in defiance. Eventually, Skyler released the girl's wrist, and stepped back. "Automail mechanic," she commented, a new assessing light in her eye. Without another word she hefted her hammer and strode back inside, leaving Winry to gape in her wake.

"WELL?" Skyler's voice came from inside, causing Winry to jump. "I haven't got all day! Get in here and show me that schematic you have clutched to your chest so dearly!"

Winry's face broke out into a grin. She wasn't sure exactly what just happened, but it seemed like she was approved of. "Yes!" The girl hustled inside, pausing a moment to adjust to the darkness. She blinked several times and coughed slightly as a wall of heat and dust seemed to enshroud her. The inner space was large, and several long steel tables covered in parts and tools lined the center of the stone floor. Behind those was a massive machine that appeared to have automated sanding belts of all sizes. To the right sat massive open flame forge, the inside glowing cherry red and putting out enough heat that Winry wondered how Skyler didn't get heatstroke just walking by it. By its wavering light, she spotted the woman weaving her way between several various sized anvils, dropping her large hammer on one carelessly, and stepping through an open doorway on the opposite wall. Winry hastened to catch up, but was momentarily distracted by the metal pieces hanging on display along the walls.

Her heart skipped. Always, automail parts were merely delivered to her through the mail, and she had never seen a sight quite like this, never really considered how they were made or where... Dozens of automail plates and joints, both finished and still raw from forging, hung on the walls, arranged like armor ready for battle. Though they lacked any kind of decoration, the craftsmanship was phenomenal and every single piece held a unique flare that Winry had never witnessed before. The amount of love and dedication it must have taken to build all of this...it was breathtaking.

"Girl!"

"Coming," Winry exclaimed, jolted from her staring. She hastily wove her way between anvils, disregardless of the soot that began to cover her clothes, and quickly followed Skyler into the next room. She blinked once again as her eyes adjusted to the light. This space was completely bare, save for a long white table in it's center, and a bright light illuminating it overhead. Scattered all over the table was a multitude of incredibly detailed technical sketches. Winry gaped down at them, impressed. "Wow, are you sure you're not a mechanic?"

Skyler chuckled, the sound almost a growl in her chest, though she appeared only in her mid-thirties, and idly chewed on a hair pin. "I'm not the one who drew those. That would be the work of my husband."

"Oh," Winry commented, interested. She looked closely at one sketch. "He's incredibly talented."

"That's right," Winry looked up at the blatant pride in Skyler's voice, and was shocked to see the surely woman's expression soften. "He's quite something." Her dreamy expression dropped so quickly that the young woman wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it. "Now let's see it."

With a nod, the blond pulled the long tube off of her shoulder and opened it with a pop before delicately pulling the thin drafting paper from its case to it out on the table. She took a deep breath and looked up with a determined expression. "Now, I know it looks–"

" _What_ is _that_?" The smith cut her off and leaned over the table for a closer look. Her expression was intrigued, and Winry could almost see sparks coming from her eyes as she turned her head slightly to examine her schematic. Encouraged, she continued.

"This is a one-of-a-kind, once-in-a-life-time build. I want you to help me make me an Automaton."

"Automaton, huh." Skyler rolled the odd word around for a moment, then looked up with a fierce grin. Her eyes danced in a familiar waltz of ingenuity and excitement for something new that Winry had felt many a time within herself. "I dunno what you're up to, girly, but you've got yourself a deal."

Winry gaped. "What? Just like that?" That...was unexpected. She had at least thought she would have to defend her reasons for building such a thing, though she really had none.

Skyler chuckled. "Just like that. I've never seen anything quite like this. I like it."

A slow smile pulled at Winry's lips, and she stuck out her hand. "All right then. It will be a pleasure working with you." The girl's small hand was engulfed by Skyler's, and though there was little difference in their hands' sizes, the older woman's seemed infinitely stronger. Winry couldn't help but feel a spark of admiration.

"Likewise. However, I think we might just need a little help."

o-0-o

"Alphonse!" Edward's heart jerked sharply in his chest as he watched some kid tear his precious younger brother away from him amidst the confusion. Alphonse's presence left him violently, like a splinter being pulled painfully from his soul, and Edward gasped at the sensation. Desperately, he tried to push through the crowd, getting violent when those surrounding him would not _move,_ and the boy was getting away!

"Woah, hey kid, calm–"

"Get outta my WAY! AL!" In a pique of desperation, Edward snapped his hands together and then slammed them to the ground, the lightning of alchemy causing the stone beneath him to writhe wildly. A split second later he was propelled from the now shocked crowd and landed on his feet, stumbled once, and then took off down the street.

The thief, completely taken by surprise, looked back in fear and then picked up his pace, dodging through the people on the streets and trying to use them as obstacles for his pursuer. The kid clearly knew the alleyways of Rush Valley, and Edward found himself hard pressed to keep him in sight. For a split second, he lost sight of the little wretch, and Edward's heart _stopped._

"Alphonse! AL!" He ran, eyes jerking back and forth along the street frantically, dodging confused people or outright shoving them out of the way when they wouldn't move. No! He couldn't lose him! Alphonse couldn't protect himself right now, damnit! "AAAAAL!"

"Oh my, what do we have here?"

Edward whipped around at the sound of a deep voice, strangely lilted, from behind him. A large man held the thief up off the ground with a huge hand, the shocked boy's feet barely touching the ground. The man was easily the size of Armstrong, his shoulders broad and muscled and only thinly covered by a tight purple shirt and black overalls. His face was wide, and brow strong, but oddly enough he appeared to be wearing lipstick, expression set in a confused pout. His eyes were as black as his hair, which curled around his ears in a decidedly manicured style.

But Edward only had eyes for the center of his world, which was still clutched in the young thief's hand. Alphonse dangled by his broken chain, red soul fire facing Edward, and Ed couldn't tell if he had been harmed or not. "Al!" He rushed forward and snatched his brother from the boy, who protested loudly. The man simply watched curiously, not letting up on his grip. Edward gazed down at Alphonse's vessel, seeming to completely forget where he was. First he scanned the metal, if there was a single scratch so help him…! But it seemed that he was at least unharmed on the surface. "Al, can you hear me, are you okay?" His voice was tinged with desperation, and at the moment, he really didn't give a damn who was watching.

" _Y-yeah,"_ Alphonse responded shakily. " _I'm okay, brother."_

Edward let out a relieved sigh, completely ignoring the surprised hitch of breath beside him, and brought the amulet to his chest, Alphonse brushing against his consciousness once again. Slowly he felt himself relax, heart slowing.

"You some kinda freak or somthin'?" An obnoxious voice broke him out of his daze, and Edward looked up at the thief with a fierce glare. The kid flinched back, and began struggling anew in the still staring man's grip.

"Why you little–"

"Okaaay!" The man exclaimed loudly in his lilted voice, placing a firm palm on Edward's shoulder. The boy grunted under the weight, and felt the massive paw tighten, holding him in place, even as one pinky was lifted up daintily. "Nothing to see here, people, move along! Really, such violence is not called for!" He pulled a sweet looking grin and pulled the young thief higher off the ground. The boy froze in fear as he was lifted like a rag doll. "Young man, you should be ashamed of yourself! If I ever see you again," his grin turned sharp and his voice deepened immeasurably, "you won't be getting this arm back next time." Then he let the boy go. With a shriek, the kid took off down the road, cursing as he dodged confused looking people. The large man simply waved at his retreating back, smiling sweetly.

Edward gaped as the man's attention was brought back to him, and he hunched his shoulders, preparing for a fight. "As for you, young thing, you absolutely _must_ tell me all about that fashionable pendant of yours! Come have some tea at my shop, I insist!" He pulled Edward against his hard side and threw an arm around the shocked blond's shoulders, pinning him in place.

"Urgh!" Ed gasped, suddenly quite unable to breath as the strange fellow pulled him down the street, chattering nonstop.

o-0-o

A half hour later, and Edward didn't think he could take it anymore. The man who had practically kidnapped him, Garfield he thought he said, was a complete chatterbox. He just didn't shut up, not for a moment!

He was sitting in the middle of a well organized automail shop, just as clean and tidy as the man himself seemed to be. Work benches lined the back wall, covered in parts and automail limbs, while several dozen more hung on the walls above them. Glass cases seemed to hold the completed pieces at the store's front. Everything was in it's place, perfectly straight and aligned, and Edward wondered if Garfield didn't have slight manic tendencies. As it was, he was chattering on about this and that and everything from the weather to what he would like to make for dinner, and Ed really _really_ just wanted to talk to Alphonse, because, dammit, he had just nearly gotten stolen!

Finally, Garfield stopped his fluttering around and placed a cup of steaming tea in front of Edward, sitting down and daintily sipping his own. The boy looked down at the cup–covered in pink flowers of all things–skeptically. He wasn't much of a tea drinker, but picked it up in any case, knowing Al would disapprove if he was rude. He sipped it and grimaced at the taste, half tempted to spit it back out. "Ugh..."

"Now," Garfield said, gently placing his own cup on its saucer. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

"...It's Edward," Ed said guardedly.

"Is that so? And your, ah, companion," Garfield said delicately, glancing down at the pendant Edward still refused to let go of.

Edward hesitated, frowning in suspicion, but Alphonse clearly didn't think the man who saved him was a threat.

" _It's Alphonse sir,"_ he said, and Edward produced a startled sound of protest. " _I'm his little brother. Thank you so much for saving me earlier."_

"Al!"

Garfield put a hand to his face, ignoring Edward, and seemed to almost blush, closing his eyes demurely. "Oh my, so polite! Don't even mention it, young man, it was nothing!" He waved a finger in Edward's face, reprimanding. "You really shouldn't carry something so precious openly in this town! We do have our share of pickpockets like the one you ran into earlier!"

"I'm not going to hide him," Edward growled angrily. "He's not just some object!"

"Now, you know that's not what I meant." Garfield said promptly, causing Edward to deflate. "At the very least…Here," he got up and shuffled around, making a sound of delight when he found what he was looking for. He held it out in front of Edward with a bright smile. "This should do the trick! This won't break so easily as that flimsy chain."

Edward took the proffered chain slowly, examining it closely. It was thickly woven, and appeared to be some sort of black alloy he did not recognize. He narrowed his eyes at his impromptu host. "Why are you being so calm about this?"

" _Brother,"_ Al reprimanded, but Ed didn't let up on his glare in the slightest.

"My dear," Garfield said with a disarming smile, "this is Rush Valley. Here of all places, one shouldn't be judged by their appearances. Half of this town is made of metal, after all."

Edward sat back, speechless. That...was unexpected. He at least thought he would have to go into a long explanation of what Alphonse was. "Um. Well. Alright, then, thanks." He looked around himself, taking in the craftsmanship of the automail scattered around the shop. He didn't know much about automail, but it looked sound. He turned back to Garfield's guileless face. "Well, if you feel that way, I have a favor to ask."

"Mhm?" Garfield merely took another sip of his tea. Before Edward could continue, however, the door tinkled, announcing that someone had entered.

"Gaarfieeeld!" A husky voice exclaimed, drawing the store's occupants attention. Edward gaped as the largest woman he thought he's ever seen pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Garfield jumped up from his seat with an excited smile and rushed to the front of the shop, where the woman met him halfway. "Honeycakes! You're home!" The woman opened her arms wide with a grin, as if about to catch the exuberant man, when Garfield stopped short. He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, you are _filthy._ "

"Aww," the woman pouted with thin lips, though her eyes still smiled. "Don't be so cold, love!" She brought an automail hand up and tilted Garfield's chin towards her, face settling into a charming smirk. "You look beautiful as always, dear husband."

"Oh stop," Garfield said with a blush, both completely ignoring the flabbergasted expression on Edward's face. "Go clean up, and then you _must_ meet our guests!"

"Just a minute, I have something to show you!"

As the couple chattered, Ed's gaze was drawn to the door, where he startled to see Winry standing, seemingly torn between complete shock and bemusement. She spotted Edward, and her eyes lit up in surprise. She walked in and sat down beside him. "Fancy meeting you here," she said casually. "So tell me, how much trouble did you get in while I was away?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Win," Ed grumbled, scooting over on the bench so she could join him. "So, can you explain...that?" He gestured to the two in the middle of the shop, who seemed to be deep in conversation.

Winry snorted. "Well Ed, when a man and a woman _really_ love each other–"

"Wha–No! I meant who's the woman," Ed exclaimed, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable frown.

"Ah," Winry's expression turned smug. "That would be our blacksmith, Mrs. Skyler." Before Edward could do more than give her a skeptical look, Garfield clapped his hands together sharply.

"Ah, I see! Well, it looks like you three will be staying with us for quite a while then!"

Both blonds turned to him in surprise at the sudden statement. "We're...staying here," Ed asked, frowning dubiously.

"Of course! After all, this project could take quite some time. Wouldn't want you to have to sleep in a nasty hotel." Garfield wrinkled his nose as if such a thought was simply unthinkable, and his wife let out an amused snort.

"You mean…" Winry said, smile growing wider by the second.

"That's right, girly," Skyler declared, throwing an arm around Garfield's shoulder, the man huffing tolerantly even as he attempted to brush the soot off her limb, "You've got yourself the best mechanic/blacksmith team in town!"

Edward and Winry exchanged glances, neither knowing quite what to make of this odd pair they had come across. At every turn, Rush Valley had sent them for a loop. It was unexpected, but…

Suddenly, all three youths exchanged a helpless chuckle. "What do you think, Al? Ready to give this a shot?"

" _Yeah!"_

Winry nudged Edward in the side smugly, while the couple watched on in amusement. "See, Ed, Al? I told you I would find them."

"Yeah, yeah," Ed groused playfully. "But I am not carrying your suitcase again, you overpowered tomboy."

"What was that!"

"Now, now, everyone. It's time for dinner!" Garfield lifted his wife's filthy arm off of his shoulder with a delicate sniff, causing the woman to snort. "We are going to need our strength after all!"

"Okay, Mr. Garfield," Winry said cheerfully, standing up. She looked down at Edward expectantly. Ed huffed.

"Alright, alright, you did a good job."

" _Yeah, thanks Winry,"_ Al said softly, much more heartfelt.

The young woman's smile turned gentle as she gazed at the two boys. "Anything for you two."

o-0-o

AN:

Ah. Well, all I have to say for myself is 'because fiction'. I thought you guys might like some genuine lightness after all the dark drama. Which will be returning in the next chapter full force, by the way.

I honestly don't know where I got it into my head that Garfield had a wife...I think it was mentioned or something...don't remember. But anyway, I needed a blacksmith, and I thought, 'what kind of person would balance him out?' and this is what I came up with. Haha, well if you guys haven't noticed by now, gender identity is a recurring theme, and this chapter was just outright fun to write. Hope you enjoyed it. Man, I really want to hear the story about how _that_ marriage happened...or rather, tell it. I'll add it to the list. Should be fun.

And yeah, I don't really plan to bring in Dominic or Paninia or any of those other peeps, mostly because writing episodes verbatim is boring and also because they weren't really all that important in the original and...well, that's about it. I thought this would be more interesting. Besides, Skyler is already a lot like Dominic as far as character builds go. No point having two similar people.

Next chapter: Alex is back in the real world, and someone gets a nasty surprise.


	9. Submission

I was lying down….at least, I thought I was. I could have been standing...or maybe floating. I couldn't remember how I got into this position, so I couldn't really be sure. My mind was funny that way; forgetful. Or, at least it had been these last few….months. No, it couldn't have been that long. And yet...my hair had grown longer than I even wore it in my past life, hovering just above my tailbone. Well, it did whenever I actually bothered to brush it out with my fingers...most of the time I didn't bother...

A glimmer of black caught the corner of my eye, and sluggishly I turned my head, belatedly feeling the strange surface beneath my loose hair, and stared. A lump of black cloth lay parallel to me, its folds catching the ever perpetual light strangely….where did that come from? Slowly I lifted my hand to reach out for it, but lost the will to move about halfway there. It dropped down beside my face as I lost interest in the cloth, and idly I realized that I was indeed laying down. Huh.

My head resumed its previous position, staring up into the light, the mysterious floor cushioning me comfortably as my mind wandered back to what it had been doing.

One, two, three, four…

I'm really not sure when the self appointed task began, or how many times I had lost count, but like a song stuck in the back of my mind, or a clock ticking quietly in the background, it continued. If I stopped, if I let the silence encroach, _they_ would consume me again….and I didn't know how many more times I could come out of that...

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two….

Images flashed against the white, strange flashes of memory that I could barely comprehend, like watercolor splashed on a white canvas in vivid pigments only to sink back into nothingness like the ground soaking in the rain in a desert..or the memories of my life taken by a director and turned surreal on a silver screen. Sometimes the images were soothing, comforting memories of times when I had been happy, images that made me simultaneously ache with longing and bathe in quiet nostalgia. Sometimes...sometimes they were horrific; flashes of red and pain and fear, which I cringed from...And yet, I welcomed any distraction from the white, even if it was painful...

Nine-hundred-three, nine-hundred-four….

How long? Hm. That was the question wasn't it; the only question I really had anymore. How long had I been here in this empty place? How long since I've felt the sun against my skin, since I felt anything at all? How long since I've seen a friendly face or welcomed another's touch…

How long has it been since I lost my desire to move, or even heard the sound of my own voice?

Slowly, I opened my mouth and took in a silent breath, throat tightening to make a noise, any noise. But I merely exhaled, mind already wandering to something else.

Seven, eight, nine….wait, I've started over again…

Something moved in the nothing, but at first, I can't bring myself to react to it. My mind struggled valiantly to remember what number I was on, but it's coming up blank. Somewhere in the thousands, I think…

"Empathy…."

I twitched at the noise, but otherwise didn't move. No, I can't lose concentration. Otherwise I'll be trapped in my dark memories again...My body relaxes slightly as the splashes of color against the white remain cool and gentle. I don't want to recall the red…

"Empathy…" A feathery sensation of warmth brushed against my arm, finally pulling me from the confines of my own mind. My eyes widened from their half mast glaze, and rolled to the side, where a large swath of black blocked my vision. Or rather, filled it.

Irises struggling to focus for a moment, I took in the form of the only being I had had any contact with for what felt like an eternity. Sparks of emotion prickled through my body like nerves coming back to life, and I shuddered at the sensation, even if those feelings were incredibly muted.

Lust waited patiently as I took stock of myself, small smile indulgent and hand never resting still as it stroked up and down my bare arm. I didn't brush her off, didn't flinch away. I had long gone past the point of caring enough to resist her. She was the only link to reality I had, and even if her touch repulsed me, it paled in comparison to being able to feel...real.

For several moments, we existed in silence, Lust watching carefully until I seemed to come back into full awareness. Finally she spoke. "Empathy….my pretty, pretty doll…." Her voice was smooth as silk, washing over me like a physical sensation after so long in the silence. "What have you done to your clothes?" Rouge eyes raked over my entire frame, brows furrowed in equal amounts confusion and amusement.

I stared blankly, not really comprehending what she meant, before levering myself up onto my elbows– movement feeling strange to me after so long lying still–and took myself in. I blinked. My flat chest–impossibly tanned even though I had no contact with the sun for an eternity–was completely bare. I rested on hand on my abdomen in confusion before realizing that the black pants slung low on my hips had been shredded in deliberate tears all the way down my left thigh and calf. I was missing a shoe.

"Um…" my rough voice grated after so long of disuse. I cleared my throat, almost shocked at the way I sounded. "I had to keep count." My gaze flitted back to her own. She merely smiled and nodded, as though what I had said made perfect sense, and continued to stroke my arm. My eyes fluttered shut, just feeling. She always touched me in some way when she visited, and though I at first resisted, I soon came to realize that she was the only anchor I had in this empty world, and to deny her touch was to deny my existence. In the back corner of my broken mind, I realized what she was doing; that this conditioning was just another way to control me.

But at some point along the way, I forgot to care.

Tilting her head coyly, she broke the silence once more with a smug smirk. "Have you thought about what I said?"

My eyelids flickered, but never really opened. I nodded my head, as I always did when she asked that question.

I'm not sure how many times now she has visited me. Fifty? One hundred? After the time she had offered me my humanity back, her stays became fleeting, no doubt in response to my...violent reaction. Where did she get off, offering me that, after all? It was impossible. I had seen what happened to my body on the other side. So she said she could make me human again, so what? What would be the point of that in this world that I was now forever trapped in? In a male body, I could never have the family I always dreamed of, or become the wife of the man I loved as I had always assumed I would. I would be human and alone. Forever...But even still, the offer had torn at my heart with unwarranted hope. And that...that hurt more than anything else ever had when I had to destroy that hope with my own distrust for the woman. I would never trust in that promise. So I attacked, and was left in the white alone with nothing but my own treacherous thoughts for company.

In the beginning, I tried to ignore her. A foolish thing to do, I now realized, as that got me absolutely nowhere other than to feel the crushing loneliness when she abandoned me again and again. Then I tried to scream at her, threaten her. Equally fruitless. Then I begged, though at this point I don't even remember half of what I said, what I offered. Each and every time, she would merely smile, offer a small touch, and then disappear. The silence and lack of sensation slowly crushed me.

The thought of rescue never even occurred to me. How could it, when I didn't even know where I was? No one would find me here...and I wasn't even sure they would want to anymore…

 _That isn't true,_ a voice immediately rebutted in my mind at the thought. _I have family here. They wouldn't abandon me._

But well, that was so hard to believe in the continued silence. There was no rescue coming for me. I was on my own. Besides, they would want Alex back, and I really didn't know where he was. This weak creature that I am now, sick with insanity and grief...I really could use Alex's strength, his confidence, but those qualities I used to be so proud of where nowhere to be seen.

After so many times of playing cat and mouse, I realized that it couldn't continue forever. Lust's patience seemed endless, and I was wearing down like a weather beaten stone on a stormy coast. I just didn't know how much of me would be left if I continued to do this. So the next time she visited I just...sat. I didn't move away when she brushed my cheek with delicate fingers, only looked straight at her and waited. Hatred and my own pride warred within me, but at that point I was just so _tired._

Her smile had been radient. She pulled me close into an embrace, resting my head against the hollow of her throat and I...let her. It was only then she began to speak. Finally, after so long of frustratingly silent indulgent smiles and knowing looks, she spoke.

She wove for me a story, broken into pieces of short narrative that she interspersed between visits, never staying longer than the next chapter before disappearing into the white once again, leaving me cold and alone, her heat lingering on my skin. I would then slip back into numbness, trying to avoid the turmoil of my own mind until she returned. I didn't know the purpose of her words, just that I had to listen, or she would never let me out of this prison. At least...that was what I hoped. The other possibility–that I would remain here forever–was too horrifying to contemplate.

The homunculus, voice smooth and alluring, wove the tale of a woman, bronzed as the desert sands where she once lived. It was the story of her and her lover, their love as bright as the eternally unobscured sun, and the tragic end of their happiness by an incurable disease, and the supposed finality of death.

But death was not the end of the story, because the man, bereft and alone, did not accept her passing. He researched and toiled and broke a taboo, sacrificing everything he knew in the vain attempt to get her back. But what he created...it wasn't her. As he sat in the pool of blood and ruin, he laughed, and cried, and broke in the face of what he had done. He tried to get rid of it, buried it in the sand, heedless of its dying cries of agony...

That was where she left off the last time before she disappeared.

Every time she left she would just ask that I consider her words, though I'm never quite sure what words she means; the story that seemed to be her own, or her desire for me to join her. Probably both. She never asked anything else, or elaborated on what she meant. She never even asked me whether I was ready to join her or not, just that I thought about it. I had long given up on asking questions, because she never answered.

"I have…" I mumbled when she merely smiled. I had nothing to do _but_ think about what she said. I would never change my mind about her promise, though...I just didn't believe it. But it didn't even seem like she needed my consent anymore. I was in her power, and she knew it. I waited for her to pull me close and continue her story, as always, but felt a spike of panic when she pulled back instead.

I stared in shock, still reclined on my elbow, my mouth agape as if I was going to say something. What that would be, I wasn't certain, but I shut my mouth with a snap before any damning words could be spoken. Yet my eyes remained on her as she stood to her full height and stared down at me, arms crossed delicately about her waist. She searched my face as I dare not move lest she leave me alone again, eyes boring into mine. She took a step back…

Something in me broke. "Don't," I rasped, voice cracking as I reached out. My eyes filled with tears as shame wrenched at me, but I couldn't help but reach out a shaking hand. This...this was different than my begging before, and I could taste it like a poison on the back of my tongue. I had pleaded, demanded she let me loose before but now the only thing I could think about was that I was going to be again and _I couldn't be alone again_.

Lust's face remained neutral as she observed me, and I lowered my eyes in shame, but didn't retract my hand. "Don't what, Empathy," she said coldly.

I flinched at her tone, shoulders hunching slightly. I hated this, hated myself for this, but the white surrounding us was crushing me and if she left this time...I didn't know what would happen, but I felt the madness coming on like a fatal disease. If I didn't leave here soon–

I cut myself off from my own thoughts, opened my mouth slowly, then closed it when my throat merely tightened. My eyes jerked up to hers and she lifted a thin brow, waiting. "Don't leave me here alone…" I said lowly.

Her painted lips twitched, but otherwise she remained impassive. "You want me to stay?"

"I–" I choked. "I want you to stay here…"

"With you?"

"Yes…with me…"

Rouge eyes narrowed down at me coldly, and I felt my breath hitch. But then the expression melted from fair features and Lust fell gracefully to her knees, wrapping her cold fingers around my still extended hand. A beatific smile pulled at her lips.

My shoulders tightened for a split second at the unexpected move, before a full body shudder wracked my frame. Tremulously, I smiled back. For several minutes she remained silent and still, running her finger over the back of my hand gently. Eventually, I broke the silence, becoming uncomfortable under her gaze. "W-will you tell me what happened to the woman?"

Lust tilted her head coyly, black strand of hair falling over her pale shoulder. "You want to hear more?"

Well...no, not really. It didn't matter what she talked about, so long as I wasn't left alone again. "Yes…" She seemed to read my answer in my bearing, though, because she merely shook her head.

"I would love to stay, pet, but I have a little problem that might be a tad difficult to handle on my own. I don't know how long I'll be gone." She let go of my hand and placed a delicate finger to her lips in thought, heedless of the sudden panic that was spread over my features. "The others have been so busy lately, I guess I'll just have to wait for them to get back…" She gave me a meaningful look, but I couldn't understand anything past my sudden terror. Didn't know how long she would be gone? No–I can't. I would lose myself. I can't do this I can't–

My breaths started coming in short gasps as it felt like my chest constricted painfully, blocking my airways. My vision began to flicker when what she was saying sank in and suddenly I froze completely. My eyes widened and I stopped breathing, gaze locking onto her expectant one.

"I–" my throat constricted in sudden desperation. "I can help you."

Her voice lifted in faux incredulity, though a smug expression took over her features. "You? But dear...you rejected my offer. You didn't want to be one of us."

"I do," I nearly shouted, and startled myself with the strength of that response. "I do," I said softer, stunned at my own words. Was I really so desperate? Slowly my gaze drifted around the white void surrounding us before settling on the black shirt crumpled beside me. The black shirt _I didn't remember removing_. Images fluttered in and out of my peripheral vision and I cringed at the insanity that seemed to hover in the back of my mind, waiting to consume me once I was alone again, stemming from my own crushing loneliness and the stone's souls torturing me. I knew that if she left, they would consume me completely and I….I would do anything to avoid that fate.

Even if it meant giving in to this awful creature's demands.

"Is that so," Lust simpered, lifting a hand to stroke my cheek softly. I didn't move. "Do you know what that means?"

"I–yes," I answered softly, desperately, even though I didn't really. I had no idea what it meant, only that to deny her anything might make her change her mind.

Her eyes narrowed, but her smile didn't waver. "No, you don't," before I could protest she continued, "but you will learn with time." Her nails suddenly dug into the soft underside of my jaw, but I didn't dare flinch away as her look became predatory. "You cannot run from me, young one. I will find you, and I will send you back here," she whispered sweetly, as if delivering sweet nothings into a lover's ear.

I shuddered. I believed her. Slowly, I nodded my consent, feeling the soft skin on my neck cut against her cruel fingers, blood slowly trickling down my neck and pooling in my collar bone before disappearing in a flash of red sparks. I didn't feel it. I was too numb.

Lust's look became soft, and her grip eased back into a gentle caress, rubbing the spot she had cut. She lifted my chin and I complied, slowly closing my eyes and exposing my neck to her, the most basic and primitive way to show submission. Her body heat washed over mine and I shivered lightly as I could feel her hot breath over my pulse, which hammered in my veins as I waited for her to make her move...whatever that move may be. At that moment, I felt like a beaten wolf; exposing my belly to the alpha, waiting to be accepted into the pack...or to feel teeth rip into me in rejection.

Interminable moments passed between us as I waited, and finally I felt the slightest flutter of lips against my pulse. My breath hitched and I tensed, but no pain came. Instead, she simply uttered, "It's time to wake up…" before pulling back.

I stayed still, jaw clenched until my teeth ground and felt they were going to crack, as I felt her body heat and presence leave me. My eyes snapped open and I let out a shuddering gasp, looking back and forth rapidly to try and locate my tormentress, but she was nowhere to be found. A trembling hand found its way up to my neck and I hunched over myself, eyes clenched shut and breaths stuttering in my chest. I rubbed my fingers over my skin, trying to rid myself of the memory of her touch and the fear it brought. It took a moment, but I was finally able to calm down. My body fell limp as I finally opened my eyes again, looking around in confusion. Had she...lied? She just left–

The world around me shifted. Hair rose on my arms and neck and flinched in confusion and fear as a sudden pressure moved the stale air in a current around me. I jumped to my feet, startled at the change, but could see nothing.

I blinked in confusion as...something began to obscure my vision. It looked like...dust? I lifted my hand to swipe at it, but it only made the powder thicker.

And then I realized that it was coming from me.

With dawning horror, I brought my trembling hand to my face...or rather, what was left of it. It disintegrated before my very eyes, my physical form seeming to wither into dust only to be sucked into the air above. I stared numbly as first my fingers, then my entire hand disappeared into the empty sky.

A startled laugh escaped me, hysterical and utterly mad to my own evaporating ears and I leaned back as I felt my legs disappear from underneath me. I began to fall, but I never stopped falling as my white prison faded to black.

o-0-o

The next time I was aware...I couldn't breathe.

Pressure compressed my lungs and shackled my limbs, dragging me in and out of consciousness in tides of black. I don't know how many times I woke before falling back into the darkness, but finally my eyes fluttered open long enough for me to catch a glimpse of where I was.

I cringed badly as a bright white light filtered from above, burning my eyes and terrifying me that I was still in that awful prison, but a few seconds later, my strained eyes adjusted. I blinked rapidly, my vision muddled. I was in some kind of dark chamber, the ceiling several stories above me, lit by a single light source. Though the light was blinding, the room still seemed to be thrown in deep shadows, flickering like black flames in the edges of my sight. My head turned slowly on a laden neck, gaze wandering uncomprehendingly down the walls, dense with what appeared to be massive pipes and wires, so thick that the underlying structure could not be seen. They trailed an wove all the way down to the floor like thick, writhing vines, and then converged in an organized mass in the center of this strange room.

And in the center of it all sat a figure, reclined and clothed in white, reflecting the light above as if he was his own light source. Long blond hair fluttered around a wizened face as he took notice of me, fair features neutral.

The room began dimming around me once again as I was pulled from the waking world, but not before I saw him grin, white teeth gleaming in the darkness. The last thought I could manage was that he looked familiar, but before I could follow that train of thought it flittered away from my grasp...

o-0-o

AN:

So guess who's back! In black! Man, I am being mean to Empathy right now. But don't worry too much, he'll get his sense of self back once he gets over the whole insanity thing. You know, I actually spent a long time thinking about how I wanted Empathy's and Lust's relationship to be. Would it be mother/son? master/slave? blackmail? I had to find some way for her to have control of him for a little while, even if that control is all in his head. So in the end I just kind of let the narrative flow, I guess, till I got this strange stockholm syndrome/conditioning thing. I'd be interested to know what you guys think.

Quick note on time flow: It's been months for Empathy. He can't tell exactly how long because there is no night day cycle and he can't sleep. That much time in emptiness would drive anyone bonkers. In reality significantly less time has passed. It's kinda like the time room in Dragon Ball Z where one day in reality is a year inside, but, you know, without the magically restocking refrigerator.

Next time: it's back to the action. Finally. We'll even be out of Empathy's broody headspace for a while, yay!


	10. Real

Deep shadows shimmered on the edge of my vision, but my eyes focussed through them as easily as if it was broad daylight. Still, the sight of them brought a smile to my chapped lips, and I licked them absently as pure contentment warmed my frozen core, melting it just a little bit.

So often it has been reiterated by both the great and weak-minded that darkness was something to be feared; the darkness in people's hearts, the pitch where nightmares crawl, where predators stalk. But to me, the shadow I cast upon the ground, the darkness that hid details from my view, was _beautiful._ The darkness so many had feared since the advent of man was a cool balm on my shattered mind, holding back the vivid imagery that had plagued me so, wrapping around me like a soothing blanket of the softest silk. Because every time I opened my eyes, every time I would flash back to the perpetual blinding light of _that_ place, the simple reassurance of contrast and flickering of my own shadow, a long missed friend and companion, made my heart _soar._

I took a deep breath...and marveled.

Everything was so _real._ I ran my hand over the damp stones beside me, revelling in the rough texture, the slide of condensation, the coolness. Even when something sharp pricked my finger, I could only smile at the sensation. I was _moving_. I took steps and the world passed me by, the friction beneath my shoes propelling me forward. Time passed here, and there was so much sound; the drips from the water draining above us, a clatter of a rock when something moved and even my own breathing which came back to me in an eerie echo. And the smells...well, I could have lived without them to be honest, considering where exactly I was, but I would take what I could get.

Even the soft click of heels behind me couldn't dampen my lightened heart, because I was free. I wanted to touch everything, revel in the changing scenery as I moved forward, and so I did, and I _felt._

 __–_–_–_

When I truly woke from the nightmare, at first I couldn't breathe, and for several seconds disorientation and panic gripped me. My body felt heavy as I adjusted to the gravity of the real world once again, its pressure so very different from what I had become accustomed to. It took several labored breaths before my heart rate settled and I was able to open my eyes in wonder and disbelief, almost afraid of doing so in the terrible case that this–my liberation–was all in my overactive imagination. But as the physical sights and sensations of the real world washed over me I was relieved to acknowledge its truth.

I was not in the same place I first woke in, that image merely burned into my mind like a particularly vivid dream. And perhaps it had been. It would not have been the first time I had hallucinated during my unorthodox incarceration...But that man. He seemed so real, and familiar to me somehow, though I struggled to place it. I shook off the thought, resolving that my immediate situation was much more important.

Drab wallpaper and a scratchy bedspread led me to believe that I was in some kind of cheap hotel room. But I didn't care, couldn't focus on that because I was much too busy being shocked by all of the physical sensations I was experiencing for the first time in eternity. I could smell must and cleaning solution, could see the dull blue of an old blanket, could feel it's rough surface, moving air brushed over my bare skin...And then I stood up, and the world shifted around me, a shift in perspective that dazzled me as if I had been blind my whole life and was seeing everything for the first time. I took a trembling step and moved _forward._

I couldn't describe to anyone the joy I felt at that moment; the joy I would feel for a long, long time at the barest simple acts that had been denied me so long. Never again would I take the simple act of standing and moving forward, because now I knew what it was like to lose it.

And with a desperation that consumed every molecule of my being I never wanted to lose it again.

An ice cold prickling at the back of my neck alerted me that I was not as alone as I appeared, and with dread I recognized the frigid presence. I turned around slowly towards the window to see the very figure I could blame for all of my misfortune sitting on the sill, blocking the sunlight from entering. "Welcome back," she said in her smooth voice, and for a brief moment I could only shiver, our last encounter still fresh in my mind, and the humiliation I had been forced to endure sitting like an acrid taste in the back of my throat.

"How long," I whispered lowly, finding my voice. It was a question that had been plaguing me for so long, and no matter what, no matter the consequences, I had to know.

Lust merely smiled and closed her eyes. "Nine days."

Nine...days? But it had felt like...I looked down at myself, the worn clothes still hanging limply off of my body, the ragged hair that fell in tangles to my waist. No, it hadn't just felt like it, it had been _months._ And suddenly I was angry, furious. Why was she lying to me? "Don't fuck with me," I growled, long past my limits of patience.

Her grin only widened with a small chuckle, setting my teeth on edge with dread. "Time passes differently in the Infinity," she said, brushing aside my anger with a warning flash of her eyes. "You will find that much less time has passed for me than it has for you." As my eyes widened in shock I could feel a pool of dread form in my stomach. That was why. That was why she had been so incredibly patient, why she could afford to spend so much time on this game. Because she hadn't had to contribute much time at all.

She leaned forward, and I couldn't stop myself from cringing. "And I can send you back there if you would rather not help me with my little project. I would be gone for several days after all. Who knows how long that would be for you…"

Before I could process the blatant _unfairness_ of that properly, she gestured towards the door to the bathroom with a magnanimous motion. "Clean yourself up. I can't have you walking around like that now can I?" With one last chuckle, she stood gracefully and walked to the door, stepping out into the hotel hallway without a backwards glance. The door closed with a soft click.

I only stared in shock, some unseen clock ticking in the silence. She just...left me. In a daze, I wandered over to the window and looked out. An unremarkable ally greeted me, a worn building face and a dirty street below. But that wasn't what had held my attention. It was the sky, blue and crystal clear and free. I could do it. I could just open the window and jump out, into that vast sky. And I almost did, but for the sinister whisper in my mind…

 _I will find you._

I shivered and stepped back. No. I would not escape, and she would never cease looking for me, no matter how many innocents got in the way. So I turned around, away from the sun, and headed for the bathroom.

Heat from the shower washed over me in rippling waves of pure pleasure and I was able to regain some of my earlier euphoria. I let the familiarity of the simple act of bathing wash over me and felt like I was washing away the pain, the desperation, the numbness, and as I stood under the spray, I felt just a little bit of my will return. I felt Lust's threat hover over my shoulders like a miasma, but as long as I drowned in sensation, my body so over-sensitive after so long in emptiness, I could ignore it.

Finally, the water turned cold and even that I basked in, absorbing the sensations like a coveted drug. But even with my heart light as a feather, I could not completely dispel the urging in my blood warning me that to delay would bring disaster. Briefly, a familiar spark of defiance pricked somewhere behind my collar bone, but I brushed it aside with a flick of thought. None of that, unless I would risk...I shuddered, forcing myself not to think about it. With a heaving sigh I stepped out onto the frigid floor, the tiles slick with condensation, and found myself face to face with my own reflection.

For a full minute I stared. Just looked, eyes frozen on my bare body as if it was the most fascinating thing I had ever seen. I took a step closer, noting that the expression on my face was pulled in confusion, disbelief even. Not because I looked different, no...I was shocked because I looked exactly the same.

A startled laugh escaped my slack jaw, more a disbelieving huff of air really, but, well, I guess I had expected...something. I dunno, after everything I went through, there should be some difference in my body, my face, my complection, _anywhere,_ but...there just wasn't. My red-violet eyes traced over my chest and torso, just as defined and tanned as if I had spent every waking moment training in the sunlight without a shirt. But no, even more so, I was in _better_ shape than I had ever been, my shoulders just a little broader, more defined. A frown pulled at the corner of my mouth, drawing my attention back to my face.

I frowned deeper, examining more closely. No...there _was_ a difference. I looked...older. My jaw was more defined, that of a young man than the boy that had stormed Lab Five. I didn't even really look like Alphonse anymore...more like Edward really, but even older than him. That...shouldn't be possible. I shook my head slowly, confused. I hadn't been in there that long had I? I looked down, tearing my eyes away from my reflection and resting my hand over my chest lightly. The ever present hum of the philosopher's stone made itself known to me, its clamoring souls becoming slightly more loud as I paid attention to them. I pushed them down without effort, long since used to controlling them by now, and worried my lip in thought. Eventually, though, I only heaved a resigned sigh and smiled wryly, if not a little bit bitter. I had been going through so many changes in the last few years that what did it even matter if it looked like I got a few years older in an impossibly short while. Compared to everything else, this was the least of my worries. In fact, it didn't even register as such. I hadn't been a child in a long long time after all, so looking a bit older was fine by me.

I turned sharply from the mirror, intent on leaving as quickly as possible, but a glimmer of red caught my eye. I paused, carefully brushing my too long hair out of the way before my breath caught in my throat. Slowly, I lifted my hand to the side of my neck, hoping beyond hope that my fingers could disprove what my reflection was telling me. But as I grazed my fingers over unfamiliar ridges I could only close my eyes and turn away from the damning image. There, on the side of my neck was an ouroboros tattoo, bright as blood against my skin.

Like a brand.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, banishing the thought before it could burden me further. I already knew what I was, but seeing the visual proof put a bad taste in my mouth. I desperately grabbed for the optimism I had been feeling earlier and stepped out of the bathroom, running fingers through my stubbornly tangled hair.

A shiver tingled up my spine and I jumped, a slight thrill of fear pulsing in me before my eyes snapped open and I realized I was still alone. But there was a pile of fabric on the bed that hadn't been there before, and I cringed slightly for walking out of the bathroom completely uncovered. Lust had left, yes, but that didn't mean she wouldn't come back, in fact already had. Being bare in front of her would be...bad. Not that she had ever demanded anything of the sort from me but the look in her eyes sometimes...I shuddered, quickly moving to the bed to find what had been left for me, eager to be covered once more.

My lips pulled back in resigned distaste as I lifted the soft pieces of fabric. Black. Of course. I quickly pulled on the loose black pants, relieved to be somewhat decent again, before moving onto the shirt. As I lifted it, a glimmer of silver scintillated in the light and hit the bed before bouncing off and clinking against the floor. I huffed in annoyance, bending over to pick it up with a quick swipe of my hand. I carelessly began to throw it back onto the bed, thinking it a lot more important to clothe myself before worrying about whatever it was, but a spark of familiarity stayed my hand. Slowly, I uncurled my fingers one by one, revealing the small object to my widening gaze.

An earring, no bigger than my thumb, glinted in the palm of my hand. An impossibly detailed snake wove and writhed around a crowned cross, draping across it like an arm around the shoulders of an old friend. Nestled in the center of that cross was the deepest blue stone I had ever seen, its color so pure that it could only have been made by magic. Wings spread out from the peice, reaching wide as if it meant to fly from my hand into the brilliant sunlight its polished silver reflected so well.

My eyes blurred slightly and I blinked rapidly, realizing only a second later the tears that fell down my face unhindered. It was the Flamel, the symbol tattooed onto Izumi Curtis' chest, that Alphonse wore engraved on his armor, and Edward wore on the back of his clothes like a crest. Edward's smiling face and Alphonse's warm soul on the day that they presented this earring to me, so happy because–The earring that Mustang complemented in jest but I could only feel pride because–

 _Because you're our brother._

It was the symbol of my family, given to the Elrics when Izumi accepted them as her students and then given to me when Edward and Alphonse accepted me as a brother. Why...why did Lust give this to me?

 _Because she wanted to hurt you with the memory of what you lost, of what you can't have._

Slowly, like clouds parting for the sun, a fierce smile tugged at my lips. It hurt. Oh, it hurt. I may not be able to see them, may not even want to after everything that happened but as the memories washed over me and burned through my blood I could only smile.

Lust miscalculated. She thought that it would break me further to see a symbol of my second life, but it only served to remind me who I was. Reverently, I brought the earring to my ear and slipped it in, only stymied for a second when I had to re-pierce my healed skin. As its familiar weight settled and brushed the side of my neck I let my smile drop into neutrality, even as my heart soared and it felt like a little piece of my soul returned with a satisfying click. The desperation and despair I had felt in the Infinity faded just slightly in the face of the hope of reality and the memories of who I was.

I was still afraid, terrified even, of being trapped again, and until I could find a way to either escape or destroy Lust completely, I was never going to regain my freedom. Until then, I would be forced to play her game.

I looked up with dull eyes but a fierce heart when the door opened. Lust stepped through and seemed so pleased with herself at the tear stains still lingering on my face, thinking the round won.

Until then…

_–_–_–

We traveled through the sewers, the putrid smell of ammonia and unspeakable filth burning my nose and the tunnels snaking endlessly. I did not yet know why we were here or where we were going, but it hardly mattered to me at the moment, lost as I was in the sensations of my own body. I wondered vaguely if I would ever get over the simple joy of feeling texture beneath my skin, even if it was a distasteful slime of who knows what. I tugged lightly at the cloth around my neck with my other hand wondering vaguely if the piece of fabric was a simple design preference or if it was designed to feel like an animal collar around my neck. I couldn't bring myself to care though, as it covered my ouroboros tattoo up nicely. Small blessings in disguise.

So distracted was I that I barely noticed it at first. I was so used to the sensations of disturbed souls brushing against mine that I almost didn't realize that what I was feeling was coming from outside of myself. I froze in confusion, hand sliding to a stop against the wall, and squinted into the darkness of the tunnel beyond. At the corner of my eye, I could see Lust come to a stop beside me, uncomfortably close, but I ignored her as the sensation grew stronger.

A mass of immeasurable aggression and anger pulsed from the darkness like some kind of insidious pressure. I blinked and took a step back, feeling the emotions boil like a particularly dangerous chemical. That was...new. I had never felt the emotions of another without direct contact before...The faint sound of dragging footsteps echoed off the walls, alerting me to the presence of someone approaching. The intensity of it was staggering and I wouldn't have been able to imagine all that coming from one being if I wasn't feeling it for myself.

I shifted slightly, not having even the slightest desire to face whatever tortured soul was capable of such malice, but a strong hand on my shoulder held me in place. I glanced quickly at Lust, but her eyes were locked on the tunnel in front of us, a devilish smile on her lips. Another particularly strong pulse of anger caused me to cringe.

A figure slowly revealed itself in the darkness. Filthy clothes wrapped over a strong frame, tattered and revealing hard and tanned skin in places. The man lifted his chin when he sensed our presence, and my jaw dropped. Crimson eyes glared from the darkness, deeper even than my own, a true red. But that was hardly the most shocking thing at the moment. A thick, roped scar in the shape of an 'X' crossed between his eyes, startlingly white against brown skin.

"Scar…" I whispered, adrenaline instantly spiking in my limbs. His blood red eyes locked onto mine, and I tensed, feeling the miasma of his volatile emotions rack up a notch along with my own as a flood of highly unpleasant memories assailed me.

"Fullmetal," he growled. The name hung heavily in the air between us as I was struck speechless, surprised at having been mistaken for Edward, but he corrected himself a second later. "No...but that's impossible. I killed the abomination he created."

"You certainly gave it your best shot," I said with an ironic quirk of my lips, voice shaking through the weak attempt at humor. My hands inched to the small of my back and grasped convulsively, acutely missing the weight of my weapons.

"Scar…" Lust cut in, her words nearly a pur. Scar's splintering gaze released me to regard her, and I let out an involuntary sigh of relief. His eyes narrowed as he took in the new threat. "We have been searching for you."

I scoffed in disbelief before I could stop myself. "This is what you were going to do? Find Scar? Are you absolutely nuts!?"

The words were completely ignored as her gaze never wavered. Scar's brows furrowed. "I know you…"

Lust frowned, momentarily thrown, before reinserting her smile. "You have become a problem, my dear," she simpered, folding her arms delicately across her waist. "You see, I can't help but think you were plotting to lay your hands on the Elric boys again. And I can't have that…"

"What–" I gasped, but a clench of her hand on my shoulder silenced me. I stared at her in horror. What did she want with Ed and Al? I thought–I thought she wouldn't bother with them after she had me.

"You look like her, but that can't be true…" Scar muttered to himself, and I blinked dizzily. We were all talking around each other. Tension was building in the air, and I whipped my gaze between the two spasmodically. Scar took a step forward, tensing his shoulders, and I startled as Lust abruptly released me. Stumbling back, I dare not tear my eyes off the predator in front of me, but dearly longed to glance at the one at my back.

"Empathy...Kill him."

Eyes widening, I wasn't able to utter even a startled 'Huh?' before Scar lurched forward with an animalistic shout, arm bulging into a claw and thrust threateningly out at me.

Crimson alchemy consumed my vision and I screamed.

–_–_–

An explosion rent the air, shattering the silent night of Central City in a violent spray of concrete and stone. Buildings shook and the ground trembled as the street by the river was torn apart by an unknown immeasurable force, bringing down the building behind it and shattering the pavement a hundred yards in each direction. Dust flung into the air as the ruined infrastructure tumbled into the dark waters, then settled into a ringing silence. And then the first screams began.

–_–_–

AN:

Hello again. We have finally arrived back in the real world. *sighs in relief*. Not that I wasn't enjoying the drama in the Infinity, I was, but I was also relieved to move forward again. Heh *nudges Empathy in the side at the lame joke. He is not amused*. It served its various purposes well, such as establishing Lust and Empathy's relationship and the advent of his new powers (*shifts eyes* convenient time jump? I have no idea what you are talking about…) and setting up Lust's backstory all without terribly inconveniencing the timeline. Whoohhh. It was pretty tough getting all that in there without dragging it on for freaking ever, let me tell you. And now it's over tralalalaaaaa.

Hehee, Lust miscalculated by giving that piece of Alex back didn't she. I don't think she'll like the consequences of that |:) Somebody doesn't have as much control as she thinks hoho~

Well I hope you guys are following all right. I know it's been kind of a challenge to get back on track for me since I've had to take a break from writing. If it feels disjointed, let me know and I'll do my best to fix it. Thanks for your support.

Next Chapter: Mustang is back on the trail, and he's not the only one…

Oh yeah. The appearance thing. The stone accelerated his growth a bit before freezing him in immortality. I thought it would be unspeakably cruel to leave him as a kid for eternity, so he pretty much looks like Ed did at the end of fma/b. I mean, I already changed his gender. I'm not that mean! *points at Lust* she's the mean one, attack her! Now I'm just being silly...no more coffee at night.


	11. Lead

Roy Mustang strode along the halls of Central, his pace leisurely in the early morning hour. His face remained sure and impassive to the perusing eye of those coming into work, but his mind drifted a million miles away. Stray threads of thought flittered in and out of awareness as his mind coped with waking up after another restless night, from organizing his day to how the sunrise looked a little too pretty for his mood this morning. Still, despite his ongoing exhaustion and the unsettling dreams he continued to endure each night, his stride and countenance did not betray his state. Such was the Game.

It was with some relief that the door to his office complex closed quietly behind him, shoulders relaxing infinitesimally as familiar and trusted faces surrounded him. Quiet grumbles of all variations of the morning greeting filtered through the room, his crew looking just as haggard and tired as he felt, having been working as ceaselessly as he this past fortnight.

"Sir," Riza greeted, and Roy couldn't help but notice how frustratingly fresh she looked, blonde hair pinned as impeccable as ever. But he knew his friend, and the soft shadows under her eyes belayed her own weariness, if not as strongly as her male counterparts on the other side of the room. Mustang blinked slowly, his eyelids stubbornly sticking together despite the cold shower he had taken that morning in an attempt to jolt himself awake. Wordlessly, Hawkeye held out a cup of steaming liquid and Mustang took it with a sigh, resigned to another cup of caffeinated sludge. He smiled slightly in thanks before wandering through the piles of paperwork littering his subordinates' desks and entering his inner sanctum.

For a moment, he just stood by the door, staring down into his coffee as he swirled it. Ugh, military grade. One should never assume that meant anything good unless it came to weapons. For everything else, it meant 'cheap as hell'. Huh, actually it looked extra frothy today….cautiously he took a sip and a slow smile widened on his face at the surprisingly rich flavor. His smile softened. That woman. He was going to have to give her a pay raise one of these days for always knowing just what he needed…

A low rumbling sound from the vicinity of his feet caused Mustang to peel his eyes open once again, moving the coffee out of his vision to stare down. Wide golden eyes stared back, too big for such a small face as Jäger plopped himself down in front of him, blocking his path. His long tail swishing back and forth almost expectantly. Roy narrowed his eyes at creature in suspicion, trying to figure out what it wanted. His eyes flicked to the supply closet in the corner of the room, next to which held a food bowl. Full. Still Jäger stared up at him. Mustang glanced down at his coffee, wondering if he suddenly took an interest in the stuff, but the chimera just continued to stare at his face, not his hand.

"What…" Mustang growled, too tired to deal with the little thing's quirks just then. "You trying to be cute with me…" his brows drew together. The chimera looked...better today, his flank brighter green and scales clearer than–Suddenly Mustang groaned, fingers pinching his nose in a silent bid for sanity. "Alright, where is it, you little bastard." He grimaced, wondering if he could get one of his people to clean up the mess he just new he was going to find somewhere inconvenient. Sure enough, there was a gross looking flaky _something_ poking out from under one of his couches, and he averted his eyes to glare down at the unrepentant animal still purring at his feet. It even had the gall to start rubbing up against his leg, movements smooth and fluid since its restricting skin had been shed. Mustang rolled his eyes and sidestepped him, only to groan once again when he caught sight of the pile of paperwork on his desk. He took another sip of coffee, wondering vaguely if he would rather clean his windows than get into that mess. They were getting a bit dingy after all…

Before that little side track gained any momentum, a commotion outside of his office perked his ear and cause Jäger to bolt for cover under his desk. Rolling his eyes again at the silly animal he leaned back against his desk casually, crossing one arm over his stomach to lazily support the one holding his coffee, trusting his subordinates to either take care of the problem or let whoever was speaking so urgently into his office.

It wasn't a moment later that a knocking echoed through the room and his door clicked open without his acknowledgement. A stiff faced Riza entered the room with a young soldier who looked like she had a colony of fire ants in her shoes, nearly vibrating with energy. Snapping off a quick salute the soldier didn't even bother to wait for his answer before launching into her message.

Any reprimand that Riza might have given her however, died on her lips as what the soldier was saying registered. "Sir, there's been an explosion on the Marou River. Your presence is requested immediately, sir!"

"What," Mustang exclaimed before she even finished speaking. "Explain."

"I don't know much, sir, only that you have been summoned to investigate." With her message delivered, the young woman snapped off another salute before another question could be asked, looking harried as she walked out of the door.

Mustang pinched his lips together as he exchanged a glance with Riza. A simple explosion wouldn't have been any concern to him at all, it was a job for the city police to handle. Or it would be, if not for evidence found on the scene that corresponded with recent military investigations. And there was only one case that Mustang was officially pursuing at this time that would demand he be informed: Scar had been involved.

Weariness forgotten, Mustang pushed to his feet, coattails snapping as he strode towards the door, Riza opening it wide for him.

He paused his sudden march and grimaced as Jäger bolted from under his desk and launched himself on Mustang's jacket, settling himself against the colonel's back. "Urgh. Get off of me! I don't have time for this." He vainly tried to pry the creature off of his clothes, the angle awkward, but a warning growl and a swipe of a paw was his only reward. An amused chuckle from the door announced Havoc's presence as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Well, colonel, feeling a little pussy whipped?" He stood there and laughed at his own pun as Mustang glared, shaking out his sore fingers and plotting revenge. Havoc must have seen the promise in his eyes, because he coughed into his hand, cutting off his laughter and suddenly fearing for his life. Riza held out Mustang's black coat, expression carefully controlled, though he could see the amusement sparkle behind her mask.

"Hide him with this, sir. We should get moving."

"What would I ever do without you, Lieutenant," Mustang muttered, pulling the coat loosely over his shoulders to conceal the little demon digging its claws into his back.

"You would probably be just fine, sir," Riza said with a straight face, pulling a disbelieving snort from Havoc.

Before any more feline and whip related jokes could be made, Mustang strode from his office, snagging the front of Havoc's jacket as he passed by. "We have work to do," the colonel professed once he got the attention of his men, and Havoc shivered as his gaze locked onto him, a dark promise ringing in Mustang's words. Why didn't he ever keep his mouth shut, why!?

–_–_–

"Was it a gas leak," Mustang muttered to himself as he surveyed the destruction on the other side of the river. The damage was extensive. An entire section of the street had been destroyed, bringing down half of an apartment building behind it in what appeared to be a violent manner, debri blown everywhere as if some massive force had torn it apart from the inside. Several civilian and military police were scattered amongst the wreckage, shifting rubble while being carefully directed by the commanding officer on the field. A line of figures lay out in a short line, covered in shrouds. Mustang grimaced, knowing that the body count had only just begun.

Havoc stood beside him, a report clutched in his hand as he scratched the back of his head. A puff of smoke drifted in the air as he hummed to himself. "It looks like it," he answered the rhetorical question. "However, there are signs of a struggle, and a rather violent one at that, in the surrounding sewers."

"How far does the damage extend," Mustang asked. Jäger shifted on his back, but he studiously ignored him.

"Underground there is damaged infrastructure as far as two hundred yards along the river tunnel," Havoc explained, pointing to the east. "Also, this was found on the scene." He pulled a small square of paper from the stack in his hand and held it out, taking a long draw on his cigarette. Mustang grabbed it and stared impassively.

A picture of a yellow coat, bloodied and torn, was held up by a nameless soldier. There was no doubt about it: it was the same clothing that Scar had been wearing last they encountered him. A thrill of the chase sparked in Mustang's chest. They were close. He was here.

"Have they found the body yet?"

"Nope, not yet. Still clearing the rubble, though."

"I want your team working night and day to clear up this mess. I want his body found. Don't even take so much as a coffee break until it's done."

Havoc sucked in a quick breath, choking on the smoke in surprise. "Geze, colonel, give us a break. We've been working our asses off–"

Mustang's glare silenced him, brow darkened with anger. "I don't get to rest until he is found, so that means neither do you, understand?"

Havoc looked taken aback, and Mustang had to force himself to calm down. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "I'll have someone come down with lunch in a few hours. Just get it done." He looked up at, gaze softening slightly.

Havoc nodded, taking the silent apology for what it was. Sure, they were colonel and subordinate, but they were still friends, and he knew Mustang had been under ungodly pressure lately, enough to break any man. "We'll find him, Roy," he said, quietly enough so only they could here. Then, before Mustang could do more than blink, Havoc saluted and made his way to the wreckage, shouting orders as he passed.

Roy watched his back for a second, a slight sliver of warmth almost bringing a smile to his lips before he suppressed it. Instead he set his face into a determined scowl and turned on his heels, stalking in the direction Havoc had pointed, lower ranks scrambling out of his wake. When asked he was directed to the service entrance to the tunnels, wrinkling his nose at the smell. As he walked through the open grate into the dank tunnel, he followed the lights of cameras flashing until he came to the team documenting the damage.

"Report," Mustang barked without preamble. The three startled investigators jumped at his presence, but swift salutes followed.

"Go get those photos developed and add it to the evidence file," one of the men said in a soft voice. The other two nodded and began walking towards the exit. "Please come this way," he then said to Mustang. As they walked, he began explaining in a succinct tone. "There has been a battle here, but as far as I can tell, no weapons were used. Instead, it looks like the same type of deconstruction alchemy that is the criminal Scar's M.O."

They came upon the first evidence of violence, a crushed section of wall, and both men paused. "He was fighting against someone," the man continued, pushing up his glasses. "Or something. Whoever it was put up a hell of a fight." He gestured towards the opposite wall, where more sections crumbled. It looked like impact rather than deconstruction, as if something was thrown hard enough to shatter stone. Mustang frowned, walking over to the indention.

"You don't say," he said to himself, brushing a gloved finger over the crumbled section.

–_–_–

"Empathy...kill him."

I had no time for more than a startled 'huh?' before the crazed man launched himself at me, hand extended like a claw. His forearm began glowing in the familiar light that I had witnessed shatter concrete and metal like they were made of pastries, and I screamed in desperation, throwing myself back in terror.

The wall where I had been standing shattered, spewing dust and filth in the air, and I choked on it, backpedalling desperately. But Scar wasn't through yet, and I only saw a flash of his malignant eyes before he barely missed a swipe at my head.

The world lurched and shimmered drunkenly around me, my equilibrium shattered by my time in captivity, and it was only through my enhanced strength and speed that I was able to keep up with the demon before me. But still I stumbled, my unnatural strength causing me to overcompensate, and I was flung into the opposite wall. I gasped as pain blinded me for a split second, shoulder cracking and ribs bruising as my body destroyed the wall behind me. I was healed a moment later, but the self inflicted blow staggered me, and I couldn't avoid Scar's next hit to my midsection. Air was knocked out of me, only winding me as he had used his non-lethal hand, and I was able to knock him away with a desperate shove.

Scar shouted in surprise as he was thrown into the darkness further down the tunnel, skidding across the filthy floor before dragging himself to a stop. He stared at me in disbelief before his anger hit me like a battering ram, violent and poisonous to my reeling mind.

I gasped, heart racing and bones quaking. What the hell. What the hell! I cast my eyes desperately around for Lust and found her standing calmly against a wall, watching us. I opened my mouth to demand she–what? Explain? Help me? She merely smiled cruelly, pointing to my adversary.

But I hardly needed the warning, his miasma of hate letting me know he was already close. I snapped my eyes back to the battle at hand and darted past him, hearing him roar too close to my ear and struggling to regain my body. I wasn't ready for this, I couldn't fight like this! I dodged around him and launched myself into the darkness, my enemy hot on my heels.

–_–_–

The investigator gestured for Mustang to walk further in, pointing out pieces of evidence as they passed. "Several footprints imbedded here, three more deconstructed sections of wall, several impacts…Blood."

And Roy could see it now, even darker stains on the already stained surroundings. He peered closely at the destruction, taking it in and trying to form a picture of what happened in his mind. He had seen many battlefields in his time, but nothing quite like this. It was raw, animalistic, and if the evidence team was to be believed, weaponless. Scar might have just gone on a random rampage, sure, but some of these impacts...humans were not capable of this. Not without alchemy. Another alchemist? It didn't look like it.

"Who were you fighting…"

–_–_–

"Ah!" The wall beside me shattered and I was once more blinded by dust as I ducked aside. I could hear Scar coughing and growling as he was momentarily obscured. How the hell was he even able to see in the first place, damnit! It was pitch black in here, he shouldn't–

"You can't dodge forever, creature," he roared, coming at me again. I cried out and threw myself back, using his own momentum to throw him away from me, but I underestimated his speed. He grabbed me by the arm, and I only had a blinding flash of alchemy as warning before I was thrown back by the violence of the transmutation, agony consuming me as it tore off my arm. I crashed against another wall, shattering stone behind me. The pain was gone in a matter of a few seconds, but as before, my psyche was having a hard time processing what was happening.

I screamed and launched myself at him desperately, trying to take him out before he could grab me again, but only crashed into another wall as he dodged out of the way. Red sparks danced and blinded me as we clashed, I barely able to control myself and he seeming to fare no better.

He had me pinned against a wall and I screamed as I dodged instinctively, dropping to the floor and letting loose a vicious kick to his ribs. Something cracked beneath my foot and Scar was flung down the tunnel with a howl of pain.

I froze as the sound hit me, stomach roiling in recognition. Scar was picking himself off of the muck, hunched over and eyes blazing, but his pain echoed in my mind, and suddenly I wasn't seeing Scar. Suddenly, I was seeing another man, in another place, tears in his eyes and a howl on his lips as I shattered the bones in his arm, completely devoid of compassion for his pain.

"NO!" I roared as the memory assaulted me, bringing me back to a time and place where I had lost control for the first time, nearly killing someone. It didn't matter that he had deserved it, that he was despicable, a murderer. It wasn't me.

Scar was coming at me again, but it didn't matter that he rained blow after blow on me, my wounds healing in flashes of agony and relief, because I was trapped somewhere else, hearing another voice.

 _You never go for the kill._

Orkan had said that to me a long time ago, and back then, I couldn't disagree. I always went to disable someone, never kill him. I could make this excuse and that, but deep down, something always stopped me, no matter how violent our missions became or who was after us. Whether they deserved it or not.

 _Empathy...kill him._

It was spoken so callously, demandingly, as if something of that nature was an easy, commonplace task. Just what kind of world was this that an order to kill could be given so heartlessly? Even what she called me made that statement all the more ridiculous. Empathy. How can empathy kill?

Because right now, I was feeling his pain, even as he inflicted it on me, tearing me apart. But nothing he was doing was easing his own pain, and I couldn't kill him no matter how much he hurt me or others. It didn't matter right now, in this moment, if he was going to finish me off and move onto the next victim, because it wasn't going to be me that ended his life. I can't.

Pressure began building up in me as I began to fight back, body remembering it's own strength as my mind was occupied. I was acting on instinct now, training coming back to me as if I had never stopped. I dodged and parried, danced around my increasingly frustrated adversary as my mind raced.

There had to be another way. No matter how violent this world became, I had never broken that unspoken promise to myself. So much has happened to me, but that was something about my nature that had never changed, no matter which form I was forced to be in.

Scar screamed at me, his attacks becoming more desperate and destructive by the second as I regained my equilibrium and dodged everything he threw at me. His pain was so potent, bared before me as if I could see into his soul, and an inkling of an idea began to form in my mind as I calmed in contrast, the familiar pressure I had become so accustomed to building behind my eyes.

Screw Lust. Or better yet, she could go screw herself. I may agree that this maniac had to be stopped, but I wasn't going to kill. Not for her, not for anybody. Because if I did, I might lose that last little piece of myself that I had left.

Scar was getting tired now, the tunnel in ruin, and I knew I had to act fast before it collapsed around our ears.

"Enough!" I screamed, and instead of dodging Scar's arm, I grabbed it and pinned him against me. I held him close as he roared, the thrill of holding a wild, untamed animal running up my spine as I brought my other hand to the side of his face. There was a hiss of something releasing and the smell of something acrid burned my nose as it washed over us, but I ignored it to keep him from struggling. "I will take away–"

His eyes widened as my own hand began to spark with the energy my philosopher's stone was generating and my own power manifesting. "–YOUR RAGE!"

Sparks erupted from my hand and seemed to flash behind his widened eyes, but before he could so much as gasp an explosion ripped us apart.

–_–_–

The walk came to an abrupt end as a wall of rubble blocked the path entirely. "This is where one of the gas lines leading to Central power plant ruptured," the investigator said softly, his quiet voice in stark contrast to the blatant violence that had happened here. "In retrospect it could have been a lot worse. Luckily the safety shafts were triggered, limiting the damage."

"That's all you have," Mustang asked, staring at the rubble and the patches of light filtering in from the street above.

"Yes, sir. Will that be all?" Roy cut the soldier a glance, seeing his obvious impatience to get back to work.

"Yes. Have a copy of your findings sent to me as soon as they are ready." The man gave the affirmative before walking back down the tunnel with swift strides. Mustang sighed once he was alone, a bad feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach. Something told him they would not be finding Scar's body anytime soon. He doubted that this explosion took him down.

But that wasn't really what bothered him the most at the moment, if he was being honest with himself. He restlessly scanned over the damaged areas again and again, wondering just who–or what–had given Scar such a fight. Edward's account of those who called themselves homunculi rang loudly in his ears as the suspicion formed in his mind.

As the last steps of the departing man faded into silence, Jäger squirmed and wiggled his way out of Mustang's jacket, causing the man to grunt in annoyance as the creature wound around his neck. It looked around with curious eyes, nose pointed in the air. Mustang was about to try and dislodge it from his person, but a hiss in his ear caused him to flinch instead.

Jäger suddenly tensed and launched himself from the man's shoulder, causing him to stumble a bit at the force. "Jäger, what the hell! I knew I should have–"

Roy cut himself off sharply as the beast began to shuffle around the ground, nose twitching and reptilian tongue tasting the air. It was vibrating, almost in excitement as a dark stain seemed to grab its attention. It jumped, tail slashing through the air as it began to dig in earnest at a pile of rubble on the ground. Mustang walked up behind it curiously, noticing the suddenly doglike behavior and wondering if had lost its little mind.

That is, until it found something. With sharp teeth the chimera pulled something from the rubble and dropped it, sniffing and tasting the air frantically. The colonel crouched in bemusement, picking up a soft piece of black fabric the creature had already lost interest in, snuffling around some more. He examined it closely, noting the burnt edges and dark stains of sticky moisture.

Was it significant? Did it belong to one of Scar's opponents? Why had Jäger reacted...Unless his hunch was right, and that homunculi were involved. But if that was the case, then...He eyed the chimera. It used to belong to Alex. Could he have been here…?

Jäger's ears suddenly perked, and the beast looked down the tunnel, shoulders tensing. Mustang only had time to straighten in alarm before it bolted into the darkness.

"Damnit!" Mustang took off in hot pursuit, cursing when he slipped on something slick. His heart began hammering in his chest as adrenaline spiked down his spine in a violent wave. The damn beast had smelt something. Alex had been here! He struggled to keep up, but the chimera was too fast, disappearing into the dark tunnel. Mustang cursed in every language he knew, frantically trying to pick up his trail. Why didn't he put a tracker on that thing when he had the chance!

He nearly bowled over the officer that had been assisting him earlier, but practically threw him out of the way, determined not to lose his only lead in ten days. A few minutes passed before Mustang was forced to stop, tunnel branching in three directions. Like a trapped animal his head swung from one direction to the other, struggling to find a sign of Jäger in the gloom, but it was no use. The chimera was gone.

He straightened and calmed his racing heart as feet pounding from behind him announced that someone was coming. Roy ran a frustrated hand through his hair, glaring into the darkness fruitlessly. Two soldiers came to a stop, asking if he needed assistance, but he ignored them. Alex had been here, fighting with Scar. But why? Had Scar found him, or the other way around? And, more importantly, had he been doing it of his own volition or was someone pulling his strings?

Mustang shook his head, filing away the questions for later. Alex had been so close, right under their noses. He turned and stalked back the way he came, cursing himself for not being faster. He could only hope that the beast found his master, because wherever Alex was Mustang felt sure he could use a friend. Jäger would just have to do until they could find him and bring him home.

Right now he needed to wrap up this manhunt with Scar and then find out where these tunnels lead. It was going to be a long day.

–_–_–

AN:

Hm. Not really much to say right now, I think. I like writing Mustang and the Gang. Also, Empathy finally uses his powers. I had that planned out from about halfway through Deliverance, and a lot of you guessed that he would have this ability. It's not as cool as shapeshifting, but not everyone can be as cool as Envy, haha.

Next Chapter: More drama in Central, and Alex meets the family.


	12. Part of the Pack

**Story forcast: Murky for the foreseeable future.**

Hm. Hmmmmm. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

I shifted in my seat slightly, grimacing a bit at the cool hardness that seeped through my thin pants. I ignored the discomfort. Happy thoughts. A soft sound to my right distracted me momentarily, but I brushed it aside, thoroughly absorbed inward.

 _Think of sunlight against your skin, Nina when she laughs, the way Roy looked that night you brought him wine…_

I sat in a lotus position, and had been for hours on end. Not that I really noticed time passing. After my stay in my empty prison, I seemed to have gained the ability to completely shut out reality in favor of my own thoughts. Huh, and here I thought I was no good at meditating. My old masters would be so proud. Kind of sucks that it was born out of necessity, but useful now, because my thoughts and emotions were somewhat of a jumbled mess at the moment. Another shift beside me and a delicate huff disturbed my peace, causing an involuntary frown to mar my face. Happy thoughts...

 _Lust with a bullet through her head_ ….there we are. That lovely image brought a genuine smirk to my lips, though it was only a twitch.

"Empathy…"

"Hush," I reprimanded, as if scolding a child, and an irritated scratch against stone was my reward. My smirk got a little wider.

Another noise disturbed the silence and I finally cracked open an eye. Lust sat beside me with all the grace and poise of a woman sitting upon her throne and not a filthy piece of rubble. Candle light flickered across her pale skin dully and flashed against her eyes, which were glaring at me while doing an excellent job of projecting bored disinterest. I couldn't see much outside of our little bubble of light, but as far as I could figure we were in some kind of old underground processing plant, long abandoned. Why we were still in the sewers was anyone's guess, but I figured it had something to do with keeping me out of the public eye until Lust was ready to take me to...wherever it was she needed me to be. Either that, or this was just where the homunculi always hung out. I couldn't bring myself to care at this point.

My captor crossed her arms in agitation and I shook my head infinitesimally, not entirely believing what I was seeing. The ever poised and patient homunculus was starting to show, well, impatience. I had never seen this from her before; this woman who had seemed to be so powerful and in control, everything going according to her whim, was _pouting_. It was almost surreal that, for the moment, she was listening to my demands. Maybe it was just out of necessity, but her momentary weakness gave me just the slightest hope that she wasn't as all powerful as she seemed. Thus my current–if not suicidal–smugness.

"Are you quite finished," she demanded, tone droll as she placed her chin on a delicate hand.

"Lust..." I responded, imitating her irritated tone. "We've been over this. If you don't want me to go on a complete mad rampage, I suggest you let me finish my meditation." And with that, I closed my eye once more. Happy thoughts. Her unladylike grumbling was a satisfying reward.

We had had this argument before. I'm not sure how long we've been in this stalemate, but I would say at least a day if my internal clock was to be trusted. I don't know what's gotten her so uptight now, considering just how pleased she seemed at the discovery of my new power. No doubt she had already come up with infinite ways to use it to her advantage, but whether it was her impatience with how long I was taking to adjust or my attitude, she was not happy with me at the moment. Tough shit. I had other things to think about.

I don't think I'll ever be able to quite describe what it was like to absorb someone else's emotions like I did to Scar. In some sick way, I was…fascinated. In that moment of desperation I had instinctively acted on a suspicion I had been having since the philosopher's stone was inserted within me: that I had the power over other's emotions. But that wasn't quite right. That would imply that I could change what they were feeling within themselves alone. That wasn't quite what happened. Instead, I...absorbed Scar's rage, I suppose, so that it was inside of me instead of him. It made sense, in a way, if 'empathy' is the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

As much as anything made sense in this backwards place.

That moment, that fleeting second, I saw Scar's enraged eyes become empty, confused, and even afraid. Then his foreign emotions hit me like a battering ram to the chest, all of that murderous fury that I had only gotten a taste of before infusing into me all at once. I _hated_. I wanted to tear the man within my reach to _pieces_. And he could see it in my eyes.

Luckily–or perhaps unluckily, depending on your perspective–I didn't have any time to act on it. There was some sort of gas explosion, as far as I could figure from my stilted memory, and then the rage was the last thing on my mind as I was torn apart from behind. Red sparks and the image of a limping figure getting away through the dust were all I could see for a while as my body regenerated, so I assume Scar made it out alive. Bastard. I was hardly in a position to care, however, as I was forced to completely shut out the world in favor of dealing with my newest rage monster that was doing it's very best to break free and consume me. Unfortunately that left me at the mercy of a displeased Lust to drag my body out of the rubble and make our getaway.

Lucky for her I didn't lead her on a merry chase while I destroyed half the city in a monstrous rage, because no amount of threatening on her part would have stopped me. I was beyond reason or fear, my soul roiling in a mass of molten hatred. If I hadn't been so accustomed to controlling the stone at that point, that would have been my fate. As it was, I was compressing Scar's rage into a tiny ball of attrition in the very back of my soul, locking it away like so many skeletons in my closet.

Thus the fascination. It felt separate from the other emotions I was feeling from within the philosopher's stone, as if it were it's own entity. It would not merge and it would not dissipate. And even as I attempt to describe it as a physical entity, I could say with every certainty that it was not. It brought into question just what the rage was. Some form of energy? Perhaps a piece of Scar's soul? Vaguely, I wondered if it was something I could utilize, or if it was just another burden. Whatever the case, I was able to lock it away.

Several hours ago, in fact, and thus my current suicidal smugness at being able to have some sort of control over my captor in even this small way. She was forced to listen to me on this, or face the aforementioned (if not entirely accurate) consequences.

For even Lust the lascivious, powerful homunculus as she was, could not face Empathy in fair combat and win. At least, not without her little power ploys. And someday soon, I would find a way to break from her...someday soon.

Lust shifted abruptly, and I opened my eyes warily to take in her suddenly content features with some trepidation. "It matters not," she said, looking into the darkness. "Because our friends have arrived."

I tensed, eyes scanning the darkness, but I could sense nor see a soul. My brow furrowed in confusion.

"So, the prodigal prince has awakened," a malicious voice echoed from the gloom, and I jumped, whipping my head around from the direction it came. I squinted in recognition a moment later, stomach sinking with dread as I remembered the night I had been abducted with unfortunately vivid clarity.

The rest of the 'family' was here. Joy of joys.

A deep frown pulled at the corners of my mouth as my legs unfolded slowly, readying for an attack. The man chuckled, as if the very idea of someone like me standing up to him was laughable. "No need for that _little brother_. Don't get your feathers ruffled."

I hardly relaxed as two forms drifted silently from the shadows. A bulbous man was revealed first, and I cringed at the strange insanity in his white eyes. He wasn't staring at me though, but Lust, a long finger clutched in his mouth and an imploring look on the woman, who studiously ignored him.

A thin man drew my eyes away from the first as he stepped around, half blocking my view of the strange creature he came with. At least, I thought he was male. He seemed feminine in movement, lithe hips swaying and legs exposed proudly. Long black hair fell over his shoulders, waist length and impeccably straight, held back from his face with a thin piece of fabric. His fair face fell into a wide grin and his red-violet eyes glinted with amusement and vanity. "Like what you see?"

First impression: terrible. So he was one of _those_ guys; so conceited and insecure they felt the need to constantly compete with those around them. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I merely said, "You aren't remotely my type," before dismissing him with a flippant wave. Inwardly I winced as his grin turned into a dangerous frown, struggling to keep my face neutral. Great, I thought, just piss off all of the powerful things that can kill you. I really needed to get a handle on this dangerous attitude I seemed to have fallen into since my release.

A chuckle beside me eased me somewhat however, as Lust clearly took amusement from my statement. The glare had been fixed on me from the stranger redirected at the delicate snort, decidedly more malicious. "Looks like that 'perfect form' of yours is not so perfect after all, Envy," Lust said huskily, resting her chin once more on her hand in amusement. As I observed the exchange, I couldn't help but feel I had stumbled upon a long standing rivalry. I tucked the information away for future reference. Could be useful...

Envy's glare intensified before a seamless transition turned his lips with a smugness that would make anyone's blood curl in irritation. "That's easily fixed." His attention fell once more on me, and I remained motionless, giving nothing away. Hips swaying in what I can only assume was an attempt to be seductive, he sauntered forward. I glanced over at Lust, somewhat nervous, but she only assumed a bored and vaguely indulgent smile. I could only fix my focus back on the newest threat and tense, waiting.

"Hm...just what kind of man are you, Empathy? I'm dying to know." My eyes widened slightly as sparks began flashing up his form, and gasped as a startling transformation took place. His hips widened, his chest inflated and his lips turned red as blood, even as his hair shortened in length, fluttering just above his collarbone and turning golden as sunlight. "Do you dream," 'he' said, voice lightened to the daintiest of lilts, "about soft curves beneath your palms."

 _He can change his appearance_ , my mind supplied redundantly as I gaped, mouth hanging open. At his smug expression, a spark of dark irritation snapped my jaw closed, and I brushed off my shock in favor of a bored stare. I derived probably more pleasure than was necessary (or healthy) when Envy's eye twitched. Two could play this game.

"Not you style, hm? I can't say I blame you for finding this form," he glanced at Lust and she sneered, "distasteful. Perhaps this…" and he changed form again, this time a much slimmer girl, looking closer to Edward's age with short black hair.

A small smile began growing on my face and I had to hold back a laugh as I crossed my arms. He has _no_ idea. He seemed to take my expression as a challenge. "No? Then," He changed again, and this time I couldn't hold it back. I laughed. It was a woman again, but this time vaguely ugly.

"Tch. I don't know what it is you think you're doing, but you will _never_ guess what my type is. Idiot."

A dangerous growl was my only warning before a vicious grip closed around my neck, choking off my air supply. "Why you little–" Before I could even register what was happening, Lust was on her feet and my neck released, leaving stinging trails where fingers had scraped skin. I wheezed as I caught a glimpse of Envy's body regenerating from numerous lacerations on the very edge of our light, yards away from where he had started. There were curious deep gorges on the ground where his feet had dragged, the only evidence he had been in my space at all. I glanced between the two, rubbing my neck with feigned nonchalance even as inwardly I trembled. I really needed to be more careful if I was going to survive this. But that was just it: I needed an outlet or I would go mad. Unfortunately for me, the easiest target was one of the most deadly creatures in existence. Figures. Still, despite the danger, I couldn't help but let out a last little giggle at my newest enemy's disgruntled expression.

"Do not," Lust growled in the fridgidest of tones, "touch what is _mine_."

A stalemate ensued between the two, the air verily crackling with aggression, and I suddenly got the image of two predators about to compete for territory. And I was the choice meat. Ew.

Before I could sort out just how I felt about the evil witch calling me _hers_ , then subsequently protecting me (disgusted or grateful? I just couldn't decide), a small gasp drew my attention to the previously ignored second arrival. The overweight...creature… had dropped his hand and wore an aggrieved expression on his face as if the very world was ending, staring at Lust with shock and longing. He turned his empty eyes on me and I flinched, almost tempted to scoot away.

You know that moment, when you bring a new cat home and you let it loose so your other cat could kind of sniff at it curiously? Well, you know that second moment, when your old cat realizes what is actually happening, and all hell breaks loose?

Guess who's the new cat.

"Lust…" the creature whimpered, horror seeming to dawn on him. They ignored him.

"Lust," I tried as well, and she acknowledged me with an irritated look, but my gaze was locked on the slowly changing expression of the madman who was a little too close for comfort. "I hate to interrupt but…"

"Oh, this _is_ precious," Envy suddenly said, regaining his original form and confidence in a split second. "Looks like Gluttony has just realized mommy has a new favorite."

"What," Gluttony whimpered in a strangely young voice. "What is it? Can I eat it, Lust…?"

"No," Lust snapped, and I drew in a quick breath of air through my teeth. She really wasn't helping this delicate situation. It looked like any second this creature would snap and attempt to tear me apart if it thought I would steal her away. Lust seemed to realize this as well, as her tone became decidedly softer. "This is our new friend, Empathy. You can't eat him." He whimpered again."Oh, stop it. If you're good, I'll let you have a little snack at the prison later." She couldn't have looked any more disgusted and resigned, yet Gluttony didn't even to notice. His face lit up like Christmas had come early, and he seemed to completely forget about me for the moment. It was an unsettling transition from his previous intensity and I couldn't help but feel that if insanity had a poster child, it would be this creature.

That...might be a problem. Envy I could deal with, as his motivations were obvious. This creature...I would have to watch him closely. He seemed to have a connection with Lust, an almost worship that would be extremely unhealthy for me to get in the middle of. And there was _no way_ I was going to get into a fight with him for Lust's _attention_. Just, no.

Heart easing back into it's normal pace, I slipped off the wall and put Gluttony on the other side of the pale woman, using her as a shield against any surprise fits of rage. Envy eyed me with clear amusement even as Gluttony seemed to relax with 'his' Lust no longer blocked from view.

"I see you are recovered," Lust assumed dryly, and I nodded, no longer interested in prolonging this game while the others were here. "Then let us get to business," she continued, leaning back languidly against the rubble we had been occupying moments before. "What is the latest."

Envy rolled his eyes, mumbling 'buzzkill' under his breath. "Same as before. The target is locked in his office hitting dead end after dead end." Clearly, the man didn't think much of this 'target', but then again, I couldn't imagine Envy thinking anything good about anyone at all.

"Careful, Envy, you know as well as I do what a setback it would be for Father if he figures anything out and tells his little friends."

I flicked my gaze between the two suspiciously, trying my best to follow. Father...like the man I met at the Gate? And why were they speaking so candidly in front of me? Did they believe me so under their control that any thought of me ruining their plans didn't cross their minds? Perhaps they did...and wasn't that just dandy? _Looks like I'm well and truly part of the pack now,_ I thought, depressed.

I cast a nervous glance at Gluttony, but he was merely sitting, swiping at something only he could see.

"Yeah, yeah. So why not just kill him?" My head snapped back around with a slight thrill of alarm. I remembered the rather violent assassination of Shou Tucker and swallowed, hoping–perhaps futily– that I would not have to be involved in such a task. The way Lust liked to play with me though...I didn't think I would have any choice.

"As usual, you aren't thinking," Lust drawled, and Envy growled. "Just killing him isn't going to work. It's too conspicuous. We need someone to blame."

I did not like this. At all. Someone had clearly gotten on the wrong side of these creatures and was going to pay the price. Just what had this target found out that would ruffle them? Come to think of it, what _was_ their plan? Lust had only ever talked about me, about saving me, not ever what the bigger picture was. All I knew was that they needed alchemists, namely the Elrics, to complete it. I shuddered to think of the possibilities. Somehow I didn't think it would be good for those boys, nor the people dwelling above us. Not in the least. I had already seen what these creatures' manipulations could do to a community, much less a huge city like Central. I scowled darkly in frustration. I couldn't do anything about it in my current situation but continue to wait and watch...

"What about one of his subordinates, then? You know: the one that always follows him like a puppy?" At this, Envy casually changed form, sparks flitting through the dark and casting striking shadows on the walls before they faded back to black. The shapeshifter smugly stared Lust down with a new stolen identity.

All color drained from my face. Before I could control my reaction, a strangled gasp escaped my throat as I was confronted with one of the last people I thought I would see in this dank, dark place. Barret, tall and tan, stood before me with an un-customary grin on his face. He leaned back, demented smile looking so wrong in contrast with his usually impassive nature, eyes devoid of any warmth I might have come to recognize there. And in that interminable moment I was filled with a nameless dread and a suspicion that froze my blood even as my heart began to rapidly force it through my veins. _No...no, no, no. Not him. Please don't be talking about who I think you're talking about..._

My shocked gaze landed on Lust, and I realized my mistake too late to hide my true reaction. She and the disturbing imitation of my friend were eyeing me with sudden interest. I took an involuntary step back.

"Oh, that's right…" Envy said gleefully in his stolen voice, and my stomach roiled at the _wrongness_. "You were staying at his house, weren't you…"

My chest constricted as the dread tripled. No...it can't be...please let me be wrong. "Maybe we should let you do it," Lust simpered, the fake affection in her voice making me physically ill. "After all, you did so very well with that Scarred man…And this would be the perfect test of loyalty..."

"No," I gasped immediately, taking another trembling step in reverse. "I won't!" She spoke of murder like it was some kind of sick reward for being good, some kind of treat.

"What was that?" The woman bared her teeth in a feral grin and an icy shiver crawled up my spine. She stood from her languid position and used her superior height to loom over me. Suddenly, I very much felt Edward's hatred for being short… "You don't get to say that to me, pet." She gripped my jaw tightly, digging her nails into the soft skin, and licked her lips at my pained whimper. "You will do as I say, or I will have you locked away so long, you will forget everything but me..."

Envy looked between us with interest, a slight frown on his face, but I had no attention to spare for him. She was serious, I could see it in her eyes. Even now, madness lingered on the edges of my conciousness, just waiting to pounce as soon as I slipped. I couldn't go back there...not again. If I did, I would lose myself for real this time. I would become just like Gluttony, a vacant thing for this woman's amusement.

And that terrified me more than any physical pain she could ever inflict.

But...I couldn't do it. I couldn't make the choice between my own life and the life of someone I held so dear. I shook my head slowly. Her frown only deepened, digging her nails so harshly I could feel droplets of blood slide down my skin.

Suddenly, her face cleared and she released me, stroking my abused skin softly. I flinched in confusion.

"Okay, love. I won't make you." Her fangs glinted. "I'll just do it instead."

I froze. _Wh-what?_ She ran her fingers through my hair, clearly enjoying the dawning horror painted all over my face.

"Oooh, can I eat him, Lust," Gluttony suddenly piped in, grin widening his overlarge mouth, going way past a normal width and seeming to consume his lower jaw. Inhuman. My heart jumped, even as Lust's eyes filled with alarming anticipation.

Suddenly, red was all I could see, splashes off it in violent bursts and gore. "NO!" I shouted, slapping her hand away. My eyes jerked back and forth between the three of them; Envy's amusement, Lust's smugness, and Gluttony's ravenous hunger. "I won't let you touch him!" I clenched my eyes tightly, adrenaline and dread piercing my heart with a vicious point. Because I knew what I must do. I couldn't let them touch him, for they would show no mercy, would destroy him utterly before violently taking his life, and I couldn't let him go through that. And who knew if they would stop at him? What if they went after his family? Bile burned my throat at the gruesome possibility. No, no, not them, _please_.

It would have to be me.

I forced my shoulders to relax with a deep breath and straightened, opening my eyes slowly. As I had before, I allowed anger to harden like a shield over my heart. Envy lifted an eyebrow, and I returned his look with a glare. "He's mine."

I would do this because I owed him everything for taking in Nina, for the kindness he had shown me and the Elric brothers, and because he was one of the most decent men I had ever known. My my blood turned to ice as I sent Lust my coldest stare. I would do this because there was no way I was going to let this _bitch_ and her cronies touch him.

For my love for him, and everything he and his family had done for mine...I would eliminate Maes Hughes.

–_–_–

Hughes hummed softly as he tucked his daughters beneath soft sheets. It was a quiet night, and his little darlings would sleep well, safe in their beds.

"Mister Hughes," Nina whispered, and Maes smiled a little sadly as she still refused to call him daddy like his little girl. But perhaps it was just as well. After all, she had someone else out there who cared for her just as much as he did. In the end, it would be her decision who she called father... Those two had been through so much together, after all. He didn't think Alex realized just how much he meant to this child.

"What is it sweetheart?" Maes whispered back, mindful of his little Elicia sleeping in her crib just feet away.

"When will you come back? You keep staying at work…it's lonely."

Hughes' heart curled in his chest at the adorableness of this little angel. "Don't worry, I'll be home soon. I just have a few more things to do at the office. In the morning, we can go for ice cream, okay?"

Gracia smiled softly from the doorway, watching. Nina giggled as the family man cuddled her belly, excited for the treat she would get tomorrow. The next day Maes had promised to take a day off to take the girls, something he had not been able to do for much too long. It would be good to see them bonding again.

"Night, night," Maes said, and Nina mumbled a response before rolling over. The man placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before going over to the smaller bed and repeating the same on his youngest child. The door clicked softly behind him, only leaving the nightlight to illuminate their sweet sleep.

Gracia pulled her husband into a hug, comforted by the warmth of his arms around her. "Be careful, okay."

Hughes pulled back and placed a quick, teasing kiss on her nose, making her giggle. He grinned. "I always am!"

Gracia watched with a smile as her husband left the house with a jaunty wave. That night, she took a calming draft of tea before reading a chapter of her favorite book. The novel fell limply open on her lap as she slipped into a comfortable sleep, waiting for him to return.

–_–_–

AN:  
Here we go, guys. We are almost to the part where I wrote the preface. So, this part of the series, I cried. I legitimately cried over an anime character. I barely ever even cry when something bad happens to me in real life! The writing of the original story was just so beautiful, I couldn't help it….sniff. I hope I'm able to do it justice.

More development for the homunculi this chapter. It was fun! They'll become more fleshed out as we continue along. Heh, yeah, Envy has no idea who Alex originally was, so he was making the safest (if completely wrong) guesses. Tsk, tsk, he of all people should be more open minded.

Thanks for sending your love! No promises on scheduled updates, what with the insanity that is my life right now, but I will never give up on this story. Neveeeeeerrrrrrrr! See, I even finished my Passing Stranger series. I'm reliable!...Right? Right!

Bye!


	13. Courage

_I took a deep breath of the pale night's air, momentarily reveling in the openness of it, the realness. It had been so long since I'd felt the gentle touch of the wind or seen the elegant glow of the moon, so long since I'd been allowed to…_

 _"How does it feel?" A soft voice filtered through the night air like silk over bare skin, and I shivered slightly. I was not alone. I'm never alone…_

 _"How does what feel?" I said softly, nearly a whisper._

 _"Freedom."_

 _I gazed out into the glimmering city, eyes devoid of any light they might have held before my long captivity. I opened my mouth slowly, allowing my deep voice to echo off the silent streets. "It feels cold."_

 _A light touch brushed against my neck and jaw, and a delicate hand pulled my apathetic gaze to Lust's. I looked into her eyes obediently as the gloved fingers stroked the vulnerable skin over my pulse gently, causing me to shudder. Lust's red lips tilted in a small smirk as she sat down beside me, cold shoulder brushing mine. Her gaze was kind, but there was no warmth there. There never was._

 _She finally released me, standing to her full formidable height. "Come, Empathy. It's time."_

 _I pushed myself to my feet beside her, every movement as graceful as my companion's. I passed my gaze once more over the empty rooftop with a pang of longing before resolutely facing forward. "Let's go."_

– __–_–_

Lieutenant Barret Orkan paused in the open doorway of Hughes' office, observing. The only other occupant of the room, Hughes himself, leaned back with a heavy sigh, the bespectacled man pinching the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses. A fan creaked slowly over his messy desk, and the florescent lights paled his skin, making him look drawn.

He looked exactly as tired as Barret felt.

Both officers had been at headquarters for nearly twenty four hours, and had been doing shifts like that for the weeks since their mutual friend had tragically disappeared. Still they had had no luck in getting closer to the edge of...whatever it is they were trying to find. Conspiracy theories about what could possibly be going on in this crazy country swirled around in Barret's mind like a boiling pot of water, but they continued to get ever more insane as he became too tired to think coherently. The younger man sighed and shrugged into the room, placing a watered down cup of coffee on the desk of his superior before cradling the other warm cup between his chilled fingers. With a groan, the head investigator forced open his clearly strained eyes to regard his companion.

"What are you bitching about, now," Barret drawled, and Hughes sent him an unimpressed look. The younger man cleared his throat. "Sir."

Hughes rolled his eyes at Barret's ever more flippant attitude, long having gotten used to the crass man's mannerisms. He lazily waved a newspaper he had been examining on his desk for the last half hour. "Seen today's paper?"

Barret grunted, not even having to look at the map of Amestris plastered on the front page with a headline that read 'Unrest on All Borders'. He had scoured the article himself hours ago, but wasn't finding the information anything more than vaguely interesting, much to his continued frustration. "It's about the uprising in Lior. Apparently it's in response to that sham religion the Elrics uncovered over a year ago. It seems the people finally realized they were being manipulated." Although, he thought, 'unrest' was quite the understatement. If the things they had been hearing were in any way accurate, it was a positive bloodbath out there.

"Yeah…" Hughes muttered, voice a bit rough from exhaustion. "Ishval and Lior. The East is a real hotbed this past decade, isn't it? The bodies just keep piling up."

"It isn't just there though," Barret sighed. He placed a finger against the edge of the map and drew it across it's rounded border in a casual gesture. "There has been continued unrest all along the western and southern border as well, lately."

Hughes blinked his eyes blurrily as Barret pulled away, as if his finger left an annoying afterimage on the map. He lifted his hand to rub behind his glasses once more, but before his fingers even touched the bridge of his nose the head of Investigations froze, hand slowly dropping from widening eyes. For several seconds, he stared blankly at the map, pulse point jumping visibly on his neck.

"Sir," Barret intoned, leaning forward to take in his suddenly silent companion's expression. Hughes startled, and his eyes locked on Barret's own. In an instant, the lieutenant took in every detail, from Hughes' dialated pupils to his racing pulse, and to the sweat trail trickling down a painfully clenched jaw. "What did you see," Barret demanded immediately, taking his arm in a tight grip.

When Hughes did not immediately respond, Barret looked back at the paper, but the disturbed man snatched it up and threw it on the ground before he could examine it further. "Hughes, what the hell–" He words were choked off as the older man got to his feet and gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into what would soon be an impressive bruise.

"Listen to me," he said, and Barret paused, never having heard such a serious voice from his habitually cheerful boss. "Go home, lieutenant, and don't talk to anyone. You were never here."

"What–Hughes–" Barret said, alarm showing through.

"Don't." Hughes straightened up and let go of his subordinate with a somewhat harsh shove, pushing him towards the door. "I don't need you anymore. Get out."

Barret stumbled back, completely bewildered. He began to ask what the _hell_ Hughes was going on about, but swallowed his tongue and really looked at him.

Hughes' pulse raced visibly, jumping in the apex of his neck and jaw. He was glaring at him, yes, but seemed agitated rather than angry. Shoulders stiff, but hands trembling as if to reach for a weapon? Likely, but against who? Not Barret, obviously, so why did he feel the need to protect him, one of the highest skilled of his rank?

Unless it was someone, or something, that he felt Barret couldn't handle.

"Do I need to tell you again, soldier," Hughes barked, and Barret straightened with a sharp salute at the obvious command.

"No, sir."

"Good," the lieutenant colonel brushed passed him, but Barret grabbed his arm before he could leave.

Barret's mouth opened once in hesitation before closing. A moment of silence passed before he tried again. "I hope you know what you are doing, Maes."

Hughes glared, but at the younger man's persistence his stern expression faltered. He placed his sweating palm over Barret's hand and gripped it tightly. "So do I, kid. So do I."

And then he was gone. Barret stared blankly at the now empty office, cold cup of coffee completely forgotten and the pages of the newspaper strewn across the floor. He clenched his hand, cooling now with the evidence of Hughes' fear and slowly picked up the scattered paper. With one last frown at the stubbornly answerless front page that had spooked his friend so, he threw it into the fire and walked away. Whatever was going on, he was sure he was going to find out in the worst possible way.

–_–_–

Hughes strode quickly down the hall, pulse racing. He glanced left and right discreetly before sliding into a the comforting darkness of the records room, out of sight. Wasting no time, a table was cleared and a small map spread over it, just barely visible in the dim light of the streetlamps outside.

He pulled out a marker and began scribbling furiously. Lior, all these uprisings, the philosopher's stone, lab five, the outright slaughtering of the Ishvalan people...human sacrifices.

Human _sacrifices._

So absorbed was he in his discovery, his shock, that he did not hear the soft click of heels against stone or the door click shut until it was much, much too late.

"Well, hello, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," a silky voice startled the man badly, and he stumbled back with a loud curse. A beautiful woman wreathed entirely in black stood between him and the only way out of this room. Hughes took in every detail with a flick of his eyes, heart hammering a mile a minute. "Although, hello isn't really the word I'm looking for…" Blood red lips curled into a seductive smile, and the military man gulped, a bead of sweat sliding slowly down his neck.

"That's an interesting tattoo you have there," he said, voice surprisingly steady over the pounding of his heart. He grinned bravely at the creature, for he knew what it was from the brand on her chest, the very same image Edward had drawn for him. "After all of the hyping those boys have done about you, I would think you'd be...taller."

Those bowed lips turned in a fierce frown, and Hughes wasn't quite sure whether he should be proud about that or curse his ever present need to laugh in the face of certain death. Her hand came up beside her face, and his eyes widened in fear as her fingers extended, becoming impossibly long and sharp. "Careful, I'm starting to reconsider letting you live, if only for the moment."

Hughes seriously doubted that was an option in the first place, so as she stalked forward, he jumped away, hands reaching the small of his back.

With an enraged growl, Lust pointed her claws at him and they shot towards him like a spear. It tore through his shoulder, uniform and flesh alike, and caused a terrible agony to nearly blind him with hot flashes of white. But Hughes was just as fast. With a flick of his wrist three knives flew end over end in quick succession, one into her stomach, another into her sternum, and the last sinking with a sick crunch in between her eyes.

Hughes gasped as her claws immediately retracted, leaving a bloody hole in his shoulder. The creature collapsed gracelessly to the floor. Without even acknowledging whether she was dead or alive, he ignored the pain and tore the map out of the atlas, crumpling it into a ball and shoving it into his coat. He had to tell Roy, right now!

Hughes burst out of the room and stumbled to his knee, agony nearly blinding him for its intensity. But still he managed to claw his way back to his feet and stumble down the hall, intending to find a secure line to Roy's home. A thought swayed his step however and he immediately about faced. No. The military was deeply involved in this, and that meant no line was safe.

He headed for the car lot, staggering often while blood flowed heavily from his wound. The night blurred in and out of focus as the journey took much too long. He cursed himself repeatedly for having sent Barret away, thinking himself safe in the halls of Command. How could he have been so foolish, when he had suspected, _knew_ , the military was involved?

Finally, he burst out of the doors, letting them swing shut on their own before stumbling out into the empty lot, nearly devoid of cars in the early morning hour. Falling heavily against his own military issued vehicle, he fumbled for his key frantically. Several pictures tumbled out of his pocket in his haste, and he cursed.

A click from behind froze his blood, stilling his hands in their task. It was a sound no soldier wouldn't recognize, one he had heard many, many times.

"Don't move, sir," a cool feminine voice echoed in the quiet night, and Hughes' eyes widened in utter disbelief as he recognized it as coming from the very last person he would have expected–

No. It was impossible. He turned his head slowly. A short woman with cropped black hair held a handgun to the back of his head. Her expression was dead serious, and so very familiar, a look he had seen hundreds of times in the past few years...but no. Whoever this was, they had made a grave error. Hughes grinned tauntingly, though his eyes no doubt telegraphed his fear. "Who the hell are you, lady?"

A fake smile pulled at the corner of her lips, and Hughes couldn't help but shudder at the maliciousness there. "Sir, you've lost too much blood. It's me, Second Lieutenant Maria Ross…"

"Bullshit," the beleaguered man spat. "Ross has a mole under her left eye." Hughes slowly grabbed the throwing knife in his front pocket, tensing his shoulders for when he would get his chance. He had to get away, he just had to...

The grin widened, turning Ross's pretty visage into one of complete malice. "Aww," she said, voice suddenly drastically different, and Hughes' breath hitched. "There's always something." She lifted her hand and swiped beneath her lashes. Sparks flashed, causing the shadows to flicker haphazardly, and then a perfectly formed mole appeared, an exact replica of Ross' own. "There, now how do I look?"

Hughes gasped. "What the hell are you…"

"Things didn't have to go this way, Hughes," the apparent shapeshifter continued, and Hughes turned back to the front, pressing against the cool door of the car in disbelief.

"This isn't happening, this isn't happening…"

"We could have completely avoided this mess if you had just kept your nose clean, but here we are…" The investigator felt the gun press to the back of his head, and he held back a flinch.

"Aw, come on," he said almost casually, despite the rushing in his ears. "Have a heart. I have a wife and kids to go home to...Ah!" The gun striking the back of his head tore a grunt of pain from his chest. His eyes watered from the force of it, and the hand clutching his weapon spasmed. It was now or never…

"Envy!"

Just as Hughes was about to whip his knife around and plant it in this sick creature's smug face, a voice, so achingly familiar, stayed his hand, and his heart.

A figure made itself known in the darkness, emerging like a shadow itself, and a young man dressed in the same black as his counterparts stepped into the light illuminating this drama. Several different memories and facts assaulted Hughes' stunned mind as he tried to reconcile what he was seeing with what he knew to be true.

"Alex," he croaked, even as his inner voice screamed denial. It can't _be_. His eyes flickered in between the young man he thought he knew so well and the shape shifting stranger at his back. Was it another trick? That _man_ walking towards him looked so strikingly familiar, but alien, as if years had passed since he'd seen him. It just didn't add up, nothing was making sense...

Alex ignored him and glared at 'Envy' with loathing, a look Hughes can say with certainty he had never seen on his fair face. "Back off, tramp. I told you, this one's mine."

Any hope that Hughes might have felt at his former friend's inexplicable arrival suffered a swift death at his words. So...so he had joined their side. The man closed his eyes in despair, before he smothered the emotions he couldn't afford to feel at the moment. He didn't know what had happened, what Alex had gone through, but it looked like they were too late to save him…

Alex's scowl never wavered, and Envy dropped the gun to his side with a dramatic huff. "Jeez, man, lighten up! I was just holding him for you, that's all."

The young man's eyes narrowed, and Envy rolled his. "Fine, fine, he's all yours. But Empathy," in a startling flash of sparks, Envy transformed into another form, this one a slim, unfamiliar man. "Don't screw this up, brat, or you will regret it."

With that, the homunculus strode to the edge of the darkness and leaned against a low wall, watching.

Hughes clenched his hand firmly around his knife as he slowly backed away from the vehicle and turned around. Alex's familiar eyes turned in his direction.

At first, Hughes could swear that the cold, alien expression on his face was seamless, but as Alex turned away from the other homunculus and towards his former friend, it seemed only a facade as emotions flashed clearly and involuntarily behind red-violet irises. In quick succession, so fast that the investigator could hardly make them out, a myriad of pain and sorrow swirled within. But no, it was more than that. Alex's flickering eyes were taking in Hughes' features as if they were the most precious thing he had ever seen or would see again. Hughes held back a gasp of shock, hope forming like a small seed in his heart.

It was gone barely a second later, so quickly that if the older man didn't trust his senses so much, he would have thought he imagined it.

"Alex," he said again, but the blonde merely shook his head, eyes hardening like ice.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Hughes. Alex is dead." He took a step forward, but Hughes held his ground.

"I don't believe that," he whispered, and there it was again, that look of despair, of emptiness. _Just what has happened to you..._

"I'm sorry I have to do this…" Alex–no, Empathy–said just as quietly.

"Then don't!" Hughes exclaimed, bringing his weapon to bear while reaching for several more. "What happened to you, Alex? Why are you–"

His voice was cut off abruptly as a hand mercilessly closed around his neck, faster than he could have possibly seen. Almost as quickly, all of the knives in Hughes' possession were imbedded in Empathy's chest, and Hughes only had time for his heart to skip several beats as the former Elric gasped and doubled over. Before the older man could comprehend what he just did, _who_ he just stabbed, Empathy's grip tightened. Slowly, the blonde straightened, pain apparent in his grimace, and began pulling them out one by one while Hughes watched on with bulging eyes, unable to draw in a single breath.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as the last knife hit the ground with a slightly wet clank. The wound disappeared in a series of red sparks, but the agony in his expression did not. In that single second, Hughes saw the Alex he once knew, the one who loved unconditionally.

The one who had saved Nina's life.

But it didn't matter, as his grip never wavered. Hughes closed his eyes, hands grasping futilely as tears slipped down his frigid cheeks. As the world faded, he hoped that his little girls could forgive him, and that Gracia would raise them alright without him.

With a pang, he remembered his best friend, and felt despair that he couldn't warn him about what was coming. He hoped that Roy would accomplish everything he ever dreamed, despite this. _I'm so sorry Roy...I couldn't help you to the very end…_

The last thing Hughes saw before his vision went black was Alex's eyes, tears pouring out of depthless pools of despair...Hughes' heart broke within his chest at the look of loss. He clearly didn't want to do this, and from everything Hughes knew about the boy, he knew that this act was against his very nature. What did they do to him to drive him to this? What did they threaten? _I'm so sorry_ , he though. _I should have reached you sooner._.. In his last moments he slipped something beneath the Alex's shirt, hoping beyond hope that he was right. Then, with the last of his strength, he brought his hand up to the boys cheek; softly, as if handling one of his beloved girls. He focused through the pain mouthed his last words, knowing that even if Alex never forgave himself, he needed to hear this. _I forgive you_.

Hughes closed his eyes for the last time...

Air, blessed and agonizingly cold burst into the barely conscious man's lungs as he was released and slammed back into his car. Hughes took strangled, hacking gulps of oxygen as his vision spun in utter confusion.

An enraged shout burst its way into his ears past strained pants. "What the hell are you doing, brat! If you think–"

"Shut up, Envy. Don't get your damn panties in a twist. I have a better idea." Alex's words were scathing, but as Hughes looked up into his eyes, he could only see love and the horror of what he had almost done. Hope surged within the gasping man, but Alex shook his head minutely. Envy walked swiftly towards them, growl building in his chest like a wild animal.

"Why you little–"

"I said," Empathy's voice went ice cold, almost an answering snarl, and any expression or trace of tears was gone from his expression when he turned to face his fellow homunculus. "Shut up."

Both homunculi looked ready to pounce on each other, low inhuman growls reverberating through the air as if it were two lions, and not men, who stood in the lot. Envy suddenly leaned back with a grin, however, breaking the tension slightly. Cautiously, Empathy eased back. "Fine, but you get to be the one to tell Lust that you failed, and you just _know_ she never makes threats lightly."

The blonde visibly paled and his throat jumped up in a gulp, but he didn't back down. Instead, he seemed to almost relax, a forced smile pushing up his lips. "Yeah, yeah, go cry to mommy. But if you do, you might miss something cool that only Lust has gotten to see. That's not very fair, is it…she wanted to keep it her little secret after all, and she would be oh, so upset if I showed you..."

"Oh?" The thin shapeshifter's face seemed to light up in greed. A second later his eyes widened in realization and he let out a bemused laugh. "You are learning, aren't you. Alright, let's see it then. What do you have in mind, my devious friend?"

Hughes, watching the byplay closely, suddenly found himself in both homunculi's rather startling regard once more. He looked up uncertainly to Alex's face, but there was no longer any recognition there.

"Watch this," Empathy said with a small smile. He crouched down, nearly in Hughes' lap, causing the older man to jerk back in surprise. With impossibly strong hands, he grabbed the retreating man's face and presses their foreheads together.

Hughes gasped, beginning to struggle as Alex pressed against him, but the homunculus' impossibly strong hands held the him still. Before he could pull out another knife, knowing it was futile but still having to try, Empathy's voice cut through his panic with a gentle whisper.

"I'm sorry," Alex mumbled only loud enough for him to hear, barely moving his jaw as the other homunculus watched on with a frown. "I will return it, I promise."

Hughes' eyes got impossibly wide, but before he could respond, red sparks jumped between anywhere their flesh connected and blinded him, burning through him like a terrible flame. There was a tug, deep within his core, and then a feeling of something snapping away.

_–_–_

Envy watched on intently as the red light faded away, interest and greed tingling in his blood. What would happen? What would this intriguing brat do? Of course it wouldn't be as incredible as Envy's own power, the homunculus was sure, but he had been around enough centuries to never pass up a chance for new entertainment. Especially if it got him a one up on that conceited bitch...

Empathy pulled back and stood, giving Envy a clear view of the human's face. He whistled low, impressed.

"Whoa, Empathy, what did you _do_?"

The spectacled man stared wide-eyed into the night, eyes flickering back and forth so rapidly they could barely be seen. His body trembled visibly, and he was clenching his jaw so tightly tendons stood out starkly against his neck. Sweat immediately began trickling down his face. He looked positively _terrified_. Envy was sure he hadn't seen such a delicious level of fear on any one person's face before...well, with a few exceptions, but who's counting?

Empathy stared blankly at his victim, slipping his hands into black pockets. "I stole his courage." And he turned away, walking into the darkness. "That one won't be a problem anymore."

Envy raised a brow. 'Empathy', indeed. He glanced doubtfully at the man trembling on the ground before him but shrugged at the satisfying terror in his eyes, figuring that if Empathy succeeded, then he had just gotten a one-up on Lust _and_ got to see something delicious in this increasingly dull world. If not, well, that plucky brat would get his. Win-win, really. With a smirk, he followed his newest brother into the darkness.

The screaming began not long after, bringing a smile to Envy's lips.

–_–_–

Edward took a deep and calming breath, clutching the precious pendant to his chest one more time before removing it from his neck in one swift motion. His hands held steady as he lifted it up to eye level, addressing the priceless soul within.

"Alright, little brother," he said, voice trembling slightly in forced cheer, even as he couldn't help the fear that all of this could go terribly, terribly wrong.

But as Alphonse's soul hummed in between his mismatched hands, he almost felt his little brother's excitement at finally, blessedly, becoming whole. "Yes. Do it."

Edward nodded once before slowly placing the transport into the hollow metal before him. It latched in with a solid click…

–_–_–

 **AN:**

 **Hello chickies.**

 **Whew. That was what, five perspective changes? Sheesh. Hope it flowed okay.**

 **Are you excited? Because I'm excited. Almost time for the big reveal! And what did Hughes give Empathy? Not telling! Have fun guessing!**

 **Bye!**


	14. New Skin, Same Soul

**Alphonse's new look is now up on deviantart for those of you who wanted a visual with the description. My username is** _ **Lynnxrider**_ **and its title is** _ **Fullmetal Alphonse**_ **.**

" _Alright, little brother," Edward said, voice trembling slightly in forced cheer even as he couldn't help the fear that all of this could go terribly, terribly wrong._

 _But as Alphonse's soul hummed in between his mismatched hands, he almost felt his little brother's excitement at finally, blessedly, becoming whole. "Yes. Do it."_

 _Edward nodded once before slowly placing the transport into the hollow metal before him. It latched in with a solid click…_

A metallic click echoed impossibly long as darkness consumed everything, sensationless and absolute. Alphonse waited patiently, the last image he knew his brother's strained face as he placed Alphonse's shell into Winry's construction and closed the hatch. The sudden blindness was disorienting, and for a moment there was no change at all. But then, a void seemed to open around him and it was as if the boy _expanded_. He felt himself almost physically swell, much more freely than he could remember feeling in ages, and his soul sang in relief.

Weeks. He had been trapped in a tiny formless shell for _weeks_ since the tragedy of lab five where his autonomy was utterly destroyed. So long as a mere object, unable to move, to do anything but watch the world drift by from his place next to his older brother's heart. As the time went on, his very being feeling compressed into something much too small, he had felt increasingly inhuman, increasingly damaged. No one but his brother, Winry and the mechanics spoke to him becauses to everyone else he was an object, just a pretty pendant. It was maddening, and terribly lonely. Only the hope of a new body, closer to his brother's than Al had been for years, kept him going.

Oh, of course Edward and Winry had tried to include him. They constantly talked to him and asked his opinion on things to keep him engaged, and Garfiel and Skyler were of course understanding and did their best. But as the days dragged on, he couldn't help but become more and more withdrawn. He could see it in the way Edward looked at him that this form and Alphonse's choice terrified him beyond reason, putting deep shadows beneath his golden eyes and causing his heart to race noticeably when Alphonse took too long to respond. The younger boy so hated to see that; to be the source of his beloved brother's pain. But Al needed this with his entire being, and even this hardship could not convince him his choice was wrong. Alphonse tried hard to comfort him and reassure Ed whenever he could, but the stress made it difficult. It had been trying on the both of them.

But now...now Al could feel himself expanding, growing larger to fill in the new house for his soul, and his heart _soared_. In the future, if anyone ever asked he could say with certainty that souls did indeed take physical form, because how else would he have felt this stretching freedom? Curious, but wonderful, like taking in a deep breath after ages underwater.

For several moments, blindness kept him from the outside world and he could hear nothing as his soul conformed to its new shape. Soon enough, however, the feeling of 'settling'–a term he liked to call the curious sensation after going through it twice–ended, and the world snapped into focus as if he merely turned on the lights.

Garfiel's shop greeted him, and Al drank in the details of his meticulously organized workspace greedily from his new height. His new body was in a seated position, but already he felt larger than life. A small gasp drew his attention to the others in the room and Al turned his head slowly towards Winry.

Momentarily Alphonse was stunned as he _moved,_ and he took a brief second to revel in that face. He could shift his perspective at will again after so long with no control, and it just might be one of the most wonderful sensations he has ever experienced, even if he still could not feel. The boy focused through his shock once more, gazing at Winry literally with new eyes.

The young woman looked a mess, skin drawn and filthy and long shadows above her cheekbones, but he couldn't help but notice the joy and fierce pride that watered her baby blues with emotion. Skyler, just as filthy and exhausted, stood behind her with a large hand placed on her new apprentice's dainty shoulder and expression just as proud.

At Winry's gasp, Edward's head snapped up from where he was still fiddling with Alphonse's chestplate. Ah, so it had only been a couple of seconds then. Funny, he thought it had been longer.

His older brother's expression was something to see and Al couldn't help but let out a huffing giggle. "Alphonse," Edward whispered, eyes wide and hand trembling as he lifted it towards Al's face. Disbelief and relief were so plain in his eyes, easing his features like nothing had these past weeks since so much misfortune had befallen them, that Alphonse wished he had a camera to capture this moment forever.

"Yeah," Al whispered back just as quietly. And like the sun parting after an endless storm, Edward lips drew into a genuine smile.

Winry let out a laugh of pure exhilaration and jumped in place. "We did it!" Skyler pulled her into a one armed hug with a grin and pulled a blushing Garfiel in for a kiss. He swatted her playfully a before tucking an errant strand of hair behind his wife's ear, then threw his own large arms around them both and picked them up bodily. Both women shrieked and laughed in mock protest, weeks of sleepless nights and intense stress and labour falling off their shoulders with the thrill of success.

But Alphonse and Edward only had eyes for each other, trapped in the world only an Elric could know. The blonde smiled blindingly and held his automail hand out in front of him. Slowly, Alphonse lifted his own hand and clasped it. He stared in wonder. Their hands were identical gunmetal grey, fingers and joints gleaming in the soft light.

Al looked up and dropped their connected hands. Before Ed could even frown in confusion, the boy did something that he had only dreamed of doing for so long; something he was half convinced he would never be able to do again without fear of injuring his flesh brother with sharp edges of metal.

He pulled his older brother into his arms and held him.

Edward's breath hitched as he felt cool metal surround him gently and draw him close. For a split second, he tensed as the unfamiliar arms trapped him, but then the effervescent aura of his little brother made it through to him and he gripped him back just as fiercely with a strangled cry. This wasn't the harsh shell Al had been forced into for years, but as close to a soft human body that could be created with a non-alchemist's hand. Smooth surfaces and gentle curves, though cold to the touch, felt as familiar as his own automail and infinitely more precious.

And the Elric brothers shared a proper hug for the first time since they destroyed their bodies, all those years ago.

A hitched sob broke into their moment of reverie, and suddenly both boys were hugged fiercely by a sobbing and grinning Winry. They opened their arms with half choked laughs and drew her in as well, the small family reveling in their success as the stress of the past weeks and of the tragedy that might have happened fell from their young shoulders; one less burden in their harsh realities.

Skyler and Garfiel watched on with matching grins, even the usually immaculate man covered in the filth of their labours. It had been a long and hard project, but one of the most rewarding and innovative they had ever been a part of. Impossible had been made reality, and before them was a living man made entirely of metal, alive and conscious as any human. Skyler gave her husband a wink and leaned against his sturdy frame. Eventually, though, the blacksmith became impatient and clapped her hands together loudly, interupting the kid's excitment. Garfiel tutted beside her, but she ignored his mild disapproval.

"Alright, kiddies, enough of this emotional shit! We have some field testing to do!"

All three youths pulled back to stare at her, faces in various states of emotion, but soon enough Edward's lips lifted into a fierce grin. "Come on, Al! Let's go!"

"Yeah!"

Winry and Edward stepped back to give the boy space. Alphonse cautiously placed his metal fingers beside his slim hips and levered himself up. Metal joints moved smoothly and synthetic muscles clenched and released as they should. With the slightest of clanks, Alphonse stood to his full height.

A flash of annoyance danced across Edward's expression before he could hide it, and Al couldn't help but inwardly smile. They had decided that he should retain the height he had when he had been a suit of armor to lessen the shock of the transition. To others, it would look as if he had just changed from one weird suit to another and less questions would be asked than if he had completely changed size. Besides that, there was a distinct advantage to one of them appearing to be an adult in their travels. Unfortunately for his big brother, that meant he was still much taller than Edward. Still, even Ed's annoyance couldn't temper his excitement, but before he could speak Winry beat him to the punch.

"Ooooooh, your muscles are working perfectly! Can you walk? Move your arms up and down, let me see!"

Laughing, Al took an obliging step forward. His metal hips shifted realistically, and momentarily he felt off balance. It had been too long since he had been in a body that whose torso wasn't completely stiff. Still, a couple of steps later he had gotten the hang of it, walking slowly around Garfiel's shop under the close eye of all three mechanics in the room.

The components of the automaton's head and torso had to be completely built from scratch. Pistons and synthetic muscles took the place of flesh while plated steel took the place of skin. The arms and legs were the precise design of Edward's own, with a few modifications from the two Rush Valley residents, a similarity Alphonse liked very much. A plated chest piece was hollowed on the inside where Edward could place Al's pendant without having to actually bind the metal together. It was a suggestion from Skyler when he repeatedly expressed fear of doing so, and so the hollowed center held an indention where Al's soul-seal pendant could fit snugly and still be protected by the strongest steel that could be created by man. Sliding plates took the place of abdominal muscles while cords of flexible steel (courtesy of Garfiel) took the place of ribs. Similar, if thicker, plates made up the spine, a sturdy construct that would both support his hollow diaphragm while being flexible enough to allow the most natural movement possible. Winry was especially proud of this feature, and had high hopes that this adaptation would be able to help those with paralysis from the waist down.

And lastly, adorned on Alphonse's new head was the Xingese mask the Elrics had found, but in place of the teardrop crest, Izumi's flamel symbol was emblazoned proudly against reinforced white porcelain.

"Hm," Winry mumbled, stopping Alphonse by placing her hands on his hips.

"Ah, Winry! Hey!" Alphonse protested as the young mechanic proceeded to shift them this way and that without regards to his balance or personal space. If Al had blood, he would have blushed.

At Edward's barking laugh, Winry looked up from her mutterings in confusion.

"Ah, Winry, dear," Garfiel said delicately. "I know you've had your hands all over this project for weeks, but now that Alphonse is in there, it might seem a bit...ahem." He pointed down to their risque position.

The young woman blinked innocently before looking down to where her hands were placed, Alphonse's own up as if in surrender while he leaned away.

"Ah!" Winry snatched her hands back as if burned. "Sorry, Al, I should have asked first!"

Edward was laughing uproariously at this point. Despite Alphonse feeling heartened to hear it, he couldn't help but be annoyed as the older boy laughed at his expense.

"Ha-ha, Ed," Winry grumbled with a slight blush. "You won't be laughing next time my hands are all over _you_ at your next fitting." Ed's laugh cut off abruptly with a flush, and it was Al's turn to laugh. Still, his embarrassment couldn't stop him from joining in, much too happy to let it bother him for long.

Edward dropped his hand on his brother's shoulder with a satisfying clank. "Come on, Al, there's only one way to test out a new set of automail."

He grinned fiercely and Al returned the sentiment. "You're on!"

"Wait, you are not going to beat each other up and ruin my–Hey are you listening! I'm talking to you!" But the two boys were already gone, out the door and into the studio towards the exit. Winry's eyes widened in alarm. "Ah, wait, Al you're naked!"

She dashed off after them, bundle of black cloth and leather clutched in her hands. The two elders in the room shook their heads at the energy these kids still had. As the room quieted, Garfiel leaned against his strong wife and she slipped an arm around his waist. "Hm, shouldn't we go watch…" Garfiel wondered.

"Nah," Skyler scoffed, but then it quickly widened into a yawn. "If something comes up, girly can handle it. In the meantime…" She pulled his chin towards her gently and smiled deviously. "Shower?"

His returning smile was radiant. "Ah, my dear, I knew I proposed to you for a reason. Besides," he wrinkled his nose with a once over glance of her filthy form. "You definitely need one."

"Ah!" She swatted him in mock anger before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs to their apartment. Garfiel's roaring laugh followed them all the way up until the door closed with a slam.

–_–_–_–

A shrouded, short figure stood in an alley across the street from Garfiel's Automail Shop, leaning casually against a dumpster. From his concealed position he couldn't see much, only glimpses of the project his new master had asked him to watch. And boy had it kept him busy running in between Skyler's Forge and this place trying to keep track of it. But that was what one did when the man who saved them from torture and experimentation asked one to do something, no matter how tedious.

Imagine his surprise when a man the exact same size as the automail construction he had seen these people building walked out of the very same establishment of his own accord. Granted, he was covered head to toe in strange black armor, but that mask the spy had only seen a glimpse of was very much identical. Oh yes, his master would be very interested in this development, very interested indeed…

With a sharp grin beneath his shroud, the short figure slunk into the darkness of the alley and disappeared from sight. Edward, Alphonse and Winry ran on, unaware of who's dangerous attention they had garnered. For them, it was a brief moment of joy in an otherwise dismal world, and they would revel in it as long as they were able.

–_–_–

 **AN:**

 **Hm. Yep. Please review.**

 **Ah, that was nice to write after all of the murkiness of late. And more Garfiel (yes, that is how you spell it. I'll fix it later) and Skyler giving a new meaning to 'the odd couple'. How fun! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and my illustration. I worked hard on both. Well, the illustration moreso, but you get my meaning.**

 **And can I just say, I am loving the parallels I am able to draw between Alex and Alphonse. Both have been reborn twice and it's kind of cool. It's a nice character study, I think.**

 **Thanks for sending your love. See you next time!**


	15. A New Way Forward

Edward walked slowly down the darkened hall, sleep dragging his footsteps and eyelids down. A warm hand was clutched in his, reassuring and comfortable. The hand tugged slightly and he glanced back with blurred vision to make sure his companion was still awake behind him.

A young Alphonse wandered along, face soft with sleep as Edward guided him across the chilly floor. The sun was already rising, they could see it through the kitchen window as they passed, but it was still a couple of hours before their mom would wake them. A soft conversation at the front door caused both boys to pause and blink up in surprise.

Two figures stood in the doorway, one slight and slim and the other quite large. Neither boy felt any alarm, immediately recognizing the forms of their parents.

"Mom?" Edward mumbled, rubbing an eye.

The quiet conversation ended abruptly, and Trisha looked over in surprise. "Boys," she says softly, placing a delicate hand over her lips and the other around her waist. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Al said he had to go potty…" Edward said, slightly slurred. He smiled as his mother ruffled his hair.

"And of course his big brother took care of him."

Ed looked past his mother to the other figure in the doorway, up and up his large form to the familiar face of his father. Ed's breath hitched as cold golden eyes latched onto his, a thrill of alarm waking him entirely…

Edward woke with a gasp, eyes snapping open in a rush of adrenaline. The rattling of steel wheels over a railroad track and the rocking of the hard bench he sat on were registered quickly as he reoriented himself. His eyes fell to half-mast and he slumped back down into his palm with a displeased frown. That dream again...the memory of the last time he saw his bastard of a father.

"Brother," Alphonse said over the din. "We've almost reached Dublith Station."

Edward glanced up at his younger brother, then did a double take. Man, it would take him a long while to get used to Al's new face. But it was less scary than the last one, most definitely, and if he could get used to that, he could get used to this. It would just take time.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Ed slumped lower into his seat, crossing his arm and feeling the nervous sweat cool on his brow. "Yeah...I was dreaming about _him_ again…"

"Ah," Al said, looking out of the window, the sun reflecting slightly off his white face. Edward knew his younger brother never felt the same animosity towards their father as Edward did. He, unlike Edward, didn't blame Hoenheim for their mother's death… "It's been a long time since you dreamed about dad. What brought this on?"

Edward grumbled, not really feeling like talking about it. "I don't know, Al. Maybe I was having flashbacks because you're in a new body again. It reminded me of the past."

"Oh, I see. Heh, you're still not over that, are you?" Al giggled a bit in jest, and Ed frowned, not really appreciating Al's joke.

"If by 'over that', you mean having to go through transferring you to a new body again, then yeah, I'm not 'over that'!" He grimaced deeply in remembrance of the stress that put him through. "Urgh, I think I've aged a whole ten years in just the past couple weeks…"

"Sorry, sorry," Al said, voice still bright. Ed couldn't help but smirk weakly back, despite his annoyance. Alphonse was still in a ridiculously happy mood since regaining his mobility, and the older boy couldn't begrudge him that. No, never that...The new body might not be human, but the similarities between Ed's automail and Al's own made it feel like they were just a little bit closer, even if it was only an illusion. It was making Alphonse so giddy that he couldn't stop hugging Edward, no matter how the smaller boy protested. Not that Ed actually minded all that much. Physical affection was not something that Al had been able to indulge in since the tragedy, and he was enjoying the ability to do so immensely. If he wanted to hug his older brother, then Ed would let him do it as much as he liked, masculinity be damned.

The train horn blared loudly and they began to slow, the buildings of Dublith coming into view. A thrill of nerves fluttered in Edward's chest as they got closer to their destination and he gulped audibly. "Say, what are the chances that she moved somewhere else and we actually have to travel for another week to reach her?" Ed said hopefully.

"Not good," Al responded with just as much nervousness in his voice. They had left Rush Valley after Alphonse was proclaimed 'fit and ready to go' by all three automail mechanics, leaving Winry behind to stay on as Skyler's apprentice. Now they were on their way to see their teacher, hoping to find out more about the philosopher's stone and perhaps visit the Ishvalan camp. It was necessary, vital even that they got her opinion on the matter, as she was one of the most skilled alchemists in Amestris. The only problem with that was…

"OOooh, she's so gonna kill us," Ed moaned piteously into his knees, hands covering his head in distress.

Al rubbed his arms vigorously, leather gloves rasping over the thick fabric of his armor. "I don't want to think about it! Alex said he told her what happened."

"What!" Edward shouted in alarm, suddenly quite terrified for his life. "She _knows?!_ "

Both boys stared at each other, feeling identical levels of alarm. What they did when they tried to bring back their mother went against everything Izumi Curtis had taught them when they were kids. And Izumi Curtis was _not_ a forgiving woman.

Ed laughed nervously. "So, uh, Al, maybe we should, um, go see Orkan first."

"After everything Alex told us about him? And what about the fact we have to tell him that Alex got _kidnapped_? Besides, we don't know where he lives."

"Oh, right…" Edward groaned. "Either way this is going to suck on so many levels. Maybe we can just leave him a letter or something…"

"You know we can't do that, brother."

Ed and Al had debated about whether to bring the other man into the loop about what happened to Alex, but both had eventually figured that they owed it to their missing brother, who had often spoke of Orkan with the utmost affection. To Alex, Orkan was the closest thing to a parent he had in this world, and Ed and Al thought he would want the older man to know. Still, it wouldn't be easy, especially since they'd never met him.

The train came to a stop at the station as Edward mused, and the boy stood with a resigned huff. "Come on, Al, let's get this over-with."

Alphonse stood smoothly as well. Before either moved, Al placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and said with the utmost seriousness. "It was nice knowing you brother."

Ed nodded and responded just as darkly. "See you on the other side…"

A tense moment passed in silence before Al couldn't take it anymore. He cracked out a huffed laugh as Edward smiled and rolled his eyes at their own dramatics. "Let's go. How bad could it be?"

–_–_–_–

"Okay," Edward gulped, visibly shaking. "I am seriously reconsidering just trying to find Orkan for the rest of the day, how about you, Al?"

"Uh-huh," Al whimpered beside him, the taller boy shaking just as badly. They had decided to try Sig's butcher shop first, as it was the middle of the day and both Izumi and her husband Sig might be working. Ed had thought that maybe it wouldn't be as bad as they were dreading, but now faced with only a thin door in between them and their teacher, he couldn't help but think that an incredibly foolish notion.

Images of harsh training, being beaten down repeatedly and stranded on an island for an entire _month_ to learn the secrets of alchemy flashed in Ed and Al's minds as they stood frozen at the doorway, memories of their time with their teacher plaguing them both.

"Right, let's just go–" Ed tried to take a step back but froze in horror as the door opened of its own accord.

Both boys startled badly as the first thing they saw was a sharp knife covered in blood peak out of the door. A second later they relaxed slightly as Sig, and not their teacher, squeezed out of the doorway with his massive frame and onto the street.

"O-oh, hi Sig," Ed stuttered, relieved.

The large man loomed for a split second, looking quite intimidating with his bloodied apron and serious expression, but the illusion was vanquished when he smiled beneath his black mustache and said quietly, "Edward, wonderful to see you." He placed a large hand on Edward's head and began rubbing his blonde hair, causing Edward to grunt and hunch over under the weight. "You've grown a little bit."

"Urgh," Edward could only groan under the strength of the meaty hand as it ruffled his hair beyond repair.

"Ah, Sig, it's me, Alphonse," Al said, pointing to himself. Sig stared for a second, and both boys shifted nervously. But he merely smiled and began rubbing Al's head instead, slightly disturbing the black hood.

"Al, you've _really_ grown!"

"Heh," Al giggled, and Ed threw him a glance as he futilely tried to fix his hair. Unlike him, Al actually enjoyed being treated like a kid.

"Izumi is resting inside," Sig said. "She's feeling much better today, so you can go on in."

"Better?" Ed mumbled. He exchanged a glance with Al. "Is she doing alright?"

Izumi had a condition of which she would not speak of to anyone that caused her to seize and bleed internally at a moment's notice. She had always been that way as far as the boys could remember, and though it held her back very little, there were some days the illness incapacitated her in their youth. To hear that she was still doing poorly was not a good sign.

Sig smiled, eyes squinting slightly, and nodded. He gestured towards the door. Ed huffed. The large man always had been one of few words. Taking a bracing gulp, he stepped forward...Only for the door to slam into his face with a resounding crack, knocking him back several feet.

"Gah!"

"Ah, Ed!"

"Well, well…" a hard voice came from within the house, and both boys flinched, Edward's eyes watering in pain. Izumi stepped out slowly, menacing presence larger than Sig's physical one could ever be. Each step out of the building hit the ground firmly, belying any supposed illness. "Hello, my stupid pupil. I've heard you've become one of the military's dogs."

Edward eeped and backed up several paces, scooting along the ground on his backside where he was thrown. "H-hello, teacher."

Alphonse flinched as Izumi's cold black gaze turned onto him. "Ah! T-teacher! You see, it's because–um–"

"Alphonse, is that you?" Izumi's face relaxed in surprise. "My, you've gotten so big!"

"Eh," Al said, shoulders slumping a bit. "Ah, um, yeah. It's good to see you–" Alphonse shouted in surprise as Izumi grabbed his hand and flipped his larger form before slamming it into the ground without warning. Edward was forced to scramble back before he was crushed.

"Hm," Izumi grunted over the two terrified boys. "You feel heavier than your typical suit of armor…"

Edward gulped and the boys exchanged scared glances. "So, you know what happened then…"

"Of course I know what happened!" Izumi shouted at the top of her lungs, fury in every fiber of her expression. "I'm your teacher! Were you so stupid as to think I wouldn't find out–" A wracking cough shook her frame suddenly, and the formidable woman doubled over with a pained grimace.

Sig placed a calm hand on his wife's shoulder as she rode out the cough, holding out a handkerchief for her to use. "Izumi, you shouldn't exert yourself. Maybe we should take this inside…"

Izumi's face relaxed into a beatific smile, a startling transformation from before. "Oh, dear, thank you for always worrying about me!"

Alphonse and Edward watched on in stunned silence at the display of affection from the usually intense woman, before flinching once more as their teacher's gaze shot daggers at them. "You two. In." she smiled back up to her husband as he carefully guided her inside.

Once they were seated within the sitting room of the Curtis's home beside the now closed butcher shop and Sig had faithfully served all a hot drink, Izumi crossed her arms expectantly and glared at the cowering young alchemists before her. "So, are you going to explain why _exactly_ you abused my teachings and then joined the _state?_ "

Edward looked away, avoiding her eyes, and clenched his hands painfully tight in his lap. Al remained silent, not sure what to say.

"Well, speak!" Izumi slammed her hand loudly on the coffee table between them and the boys cringed.

Edward frowned, still avoiding her eyes. "How much do you know?"

"Enough," The older alchemist barked. "I know that you committed the taboo. I know that you lost your arm and leg, and that you, Alphonse, lost your whole body. I know you stole someone from their own life and forced him into another body. I know," She paused to take a deep breath before continuing coldly. "I know that if this is the result of my training you, the complete _butchering_ of my teachings, then I should never have taken you in in the first place…"

By the time she had finished, both boys were bowed deeply in their seats in shame, refusing to look up. Alphonse's shoulders shook.

Sig placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. She jumped, looking from his sure face to her students'. Her expression softened and she eased back into her seat with a deep sigh. "It seems both of us are beyond help…"

Ed's head snapped up in surprise, and he clutched automail arm tightly. "Teacher...you saw it too?"

Izumi nodded slowly, hands limp in her lap. "For a long while," she began softly, and Sig rubbed her shoulder in support, "we believed we were barren. We wanted a child, but I couldn't–" she took a deep breath. "I couldn't conceive. When we were finally able to concieve, I ended up falling gravely ill." Her head bowed slightly and her eyes closed, recalling a painful memory. "Our child too, our son...he never took a living breath in this world. And so I committed the taboo."

Edward and Alphonse sat silently, surprise and a desperate sadness flowing through the both of them. Edward's eyes were aggrieved as he remembered clearly the terror of what they had gone through, the pain, and couldn't imagine a single soul going through it as well. And the Gate...that awful place and that awful apparition...she had seen it too. The Truth.

Izumi finally looked up, coming out of her musings. Her hand clenched over her stomach softly. "As a result, I lost parts of my organs to the transmutation and my baby...I only caused it to suffer further. I see now that I should have told you sooner, so that you would not have had to make the same mistakes I did…" She looked to Edward in particular, eyes showing compassion she did not display often. "It must have been so awful…"

Ed's breath hitched in his chest, clearly seeing her guilt. She blamed herself for his stupidity, he could see it in her eyes. And that was so, so wrong. "No, teacher," he said softly. "I did it to myself. There is no-one to blame but me."

"Ed," Al tried, but his older brother merely placed a hand on his arm, silencing him. Ed's eyes never left Izumi's.

Eventually, the stalemate ended and Izumi nodded her head in acceptance.

"Teacher," Alphonse said after several moments in silence, voicing something he had been wondering for a long time. "Alex told you what happened, didn't he? And yet, you still helped him, even though he told us you refused to take on another student." Izumi was by no means a bad person, and she would help where she could, but to commit to taking on another student so soon after learning her last ones had spurned her was not in her nature.

Izumi's eyes once more turned cold. "Alyssa," was all she said. Ed and Al exchanged confused glances, but she went on before they could ask. "That was to be the name of her child, had it been born before she was taken from it."

Dead silence hung in the room as Izumi's words settled heavily on the boys' shoulders. Edward's expression seemed frozen in one of complete shock.

"So," Edward finally choked, eyes filling with tears. "It's true." Al let out a small whimper beside him.

"Alexandria never told you, did she." The woman continued mercilessly, and Edward clenched his eyes shut at the name that he had not heard spoken since Alex forcefully shut it away three long years ago. He bit his lip hard to try and force back the tears while Al shook beside him. "I want you boys to understand exactly what it is you did to her. You cannot imagine the pain she has gone through, that same pain that I know well...but it was so much worse than that. You stole her body and life from her, but you are also responsible for Alyssa's death, and you will spend the _rest of your lives_ trying to make it right." Edward's tears finally fell as he opened his eyes wide at the condemning words, and the older alchemist looked between both boys sternly. She delivered the final blow. "She came to me because for some foolish reason she believed that you joining the military would somehow lead to her returning to what she was taken from. And as we both know, Edward, there is no way to regain what was lost."

"No," Edward said, soft but firm, and looked his teacher dead in the eyes. "I don't believe that. There is a way to make this right, there has to be! I have to believe it..."

"Did you learn nothing!?" Izumi shouted. "If you won't learn from your own damn mistakes, then learn from mine! No-one comes back from the dead, no-one!"

"We know!" Al finally spoke up and stood in an uncharacteristic display of anger. Izumi held her ground, glaring. "We know that now. We may not be able to do anything for A-Alyssa–" he choked on the name, as if it caused him physical pain. "But we have beleive that we can restore Alex to his original form, that _we_ can be restored to our original forms–"

"Are you not listening to me? If Alyssa is dead then what makes you think Alexandria survived?!"

"We don't know that! Maybe Alexandria's body survived without a soul, maybe Alyssa isn't–"

Edward's strangled gasp interrupted the shouted argument, and both paused to look at him but he could only stare at the floor, wide eyes unseeing and pupils barely pinpricks in a sea of gold.

"Brother?" Al asked, frightened by the expression on his older brother's face.

"Al...at Lab Five...I think I know what Truth showed him," Ed whispered, voice wavering so that it was barely audible.

For several moments, only the ticking of the wall clock could be heard as Alphonse absorbed this news. "We don't know that…" he choked. Edward only shook his head, remembering the terrible expression Alex had worn when they returned from the Gate, as if his very heart had been ripped from his chest. Alphonse hadn't seen what Ed saw, as he was behind Alex when he fell, when he was taken. There was an absolute certainty in Edward's mind that what he was right, and it tore at him.

"What have we done?" Al whimpered, and he sat back down heavily in his chair. "What do we _do?_ "

"Exactly what teacher said," Edward said, wiping at his tears and placing a firm hand on his brother's shoulder. "We get him back. And then we spend the rest of our lives trying to make it right."

Izumi narrowed her eyes as she observed the two boys. Eventually, as it was clear neither could continue this conversation, she stood. "Now we will eat. Then," her eyes flickered sternly between both miserable expressions. "Then you will tell me exactly what happened."

Abruptly she left the room and entered the kitchen, slamming the door behind her with a sharp report. For a moment, she could only lean against the now closed door and allow her emotions to simmer, not doing anything to calm them just yet. Her grief was over a decade old by now, and yet the older woman could still feel it as if it was only yesterday when forced to recall it. And the knowledge that events had only repeated themselves did not help her tired heart.

But Izumi Curtis was never a woman to let any kind of pain, emotional or physical, stymy her for long. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to the kitchen to begin their meal. There was more of this story to be heard, and there would be no more stalling.

–_–_–

Three hours later, and Edward was so...very...tired. Alphonse sat beside him, long having fallen silent.

They had moved to the sitting room and both had been given cups of hot cocoa that Sig had left before he took his leave. Both had sat untouched since they were given. A warm breeze filtered through the open window.

Izumi sat on the couch across from them, the black haired woman massaging her temples as if soothing a headache. Edward told her everything, from the minute they left her tutelage and the events since. The transmutation, the Gate, the Alchemy Exam, Lab Five and the philosopher's stone...he held nothing back, and recounting all of it left him so emotionally drained he could hardly believe he had shared a laugh with his brother only that morning.

"So…" Izumi finally spoke, monotone voice breaking the silence. "What are you going to do?"

Edward wiped a tired hand over his eyes. "The same as before. We are going after the philosopher's stone."

"Why?" She asked flatly. "You know how they are created, have already _made_ one, and decided they aren't worth the price."

"Several reasons," Ed sighed. "It's still our best shot at getting Al's body back, for one."

"I thought we established that a body cannot be without its soul."

"Maybe not in our world, but," he glanced at Alphonse. "I actually saw Al's body when I went to the Gate the second time."

Alphonse shifted before adding his own thoughts. "My situation is different from Alex's. Unlike us taking his soul from it's body, the opposite happened to me. My body _and_ soul were taken by the Gate…"

"But I recalled his soul to our world." Ed finished.

"That still doesn't address the morality of using it." She glared, frowning harshly. "I will not allow you to use it, not while I have breath in my body."

Al shook his head. "We won't. Not unless there is another way to create it."

Izumi nodded, accepting that for now. "And the other reasons?"

"The homunculi want alchemists to make the stone, and there are rumors that the Ishvalans have another way to create one," Al said. "We believe that they have either planted the rumors themselves to lure alchemists, or will come to investigate."

"And you believe Alex will be with them," Izumi speculated.

"Maybe," Edward shrugged. "We have to try. Right now we have no other leads."

"Teacher, what do _you_ know of the philosopher's stone?"

"Hm," Izumi leaned back and crossed her arms in thought. "I'm afraid it's never interested me before, so not much. There was a man who came through here some years ago asking about it…"

"Really?" Ed felt sudden excitement. "What was his name?"

"Hoenheim."

A quick intake of breath distracted her from her musings, and she took in the shocked visage of her pupil. "What is it?"

"Are you positive that was his name," Edward said softly, voice wavering.

"Yes, I'm quite sure." She said, brow furrowing.

"Then he's alive." Edward clenched his hands against his legs harshly with gritted teeth. Izumi looked to Alphonse in question.

"That's the name of our father."

"The one who ran out on you?" Al nodded, and Izumi frowned consideringly. Now that she thought about it, the man did have the same peculiar golden eyes as both Edward and Alphonse…

"Did our father have anything to say about the stone," Al continued while Edward remained silent, eyes lost in memory.

"Not much, I'm afraid. Just something about a lifelong dream coming true."

"Well that's just great," Ed said harshly. "At least he's happy. Now that we've established he's completely useless even when we never see him–" He cut himself off abruptly at Izumi's raised eyebrow. "Er...is there anything else you can think of, teacher?"

Izumi considered, tilting her head slightly. "Al."

"Yes?"

"You never saw the Truth, did you?"

"Ah, no. I'm afraid I don't remember anything that happened before I woke up like this. I'm not even sure what that means."

"You must have lost your memories from the shock." Izumi narrowed her eyes and Edward leaned forward in interest. "We need to get Alphonse's memories back. He lost his entire body to the Gate. Just think about what he must have seen."

Edward's eyes widened. "Oh yeah. We only lost parts of our bodies to pay for what we saw, but he lost everything. He must have seen way more than either of us."

"So," Al said, a bit of optimism sneaking into his voice. "If we get my memories, we might learn how to create the philosopher's stone and get our bodies back?"

"It's possible. But…" Edward and Izumi exchanged concerned glances.

"What? Is it something bad?"

Izumi frowned deeply. "One cannot see the Truth and come out the other end unscathed. You are blessed to not have seen what we have."

"I will have nightmares of it for the rest of my life," Edward added with a shiver.

Alphonse stood and walked over to the window, considering the dark street outside. Edward's nightmares...the haunted looks he had seen pass over his brother's face ever since that night. Yes, it had changed him, but Alphonse had already changed as well. There was nothing he could see at this point that would ruin him further. And with all that was at stake, a few horrible memories were a price worth paying if they could return to normal. If they could save Alex.

"I don't care," he finally said, turning back to the room. "Any sacrifice is nothing to restore what we have lost." He would get his memories back, no matter what it took.

Izumi stood with a sigh. "Alright, then. I have an acquaintance who might be able to help you retrieve your memories. For now, you two get some sleep. It's been a long day for all of us."

–_–_–

The light in the sitting room flicked off, throwing the street outside into darkness, and leaving only a dim streetlamp to light the empty road. Two figures stood leaning against the house next to the open window, one large and one of average build.

Orkan stood stonily against the wall behind him, ignoring his silent companion. When Izumi had demanded his presence a few hours ago, he had not expected to be accosted by her bear of a husband and told to stand in this spot all damn night, had not expected to hear what he heard. He ran scrubbed an agitated hand through his grayed hair.

"This," he growled, drawing Sig's stoic attention. "This shit is why I retired." It disgusted him, everything he had heard. He knew it was bad in this thrice accursed country, knew about the labs and the experiments and all that happened in the war, he was _there_ , dammit! This was why he left, why he had nearly disowned his own son when he joined the military, and now even his prized pupil was caught up in all of this shit. Things were coming to a head, he could feel it, had been feeling it for _years_.

"I think," Sig said in that quiet way of his, "that we can no longer run from what's happening."

Orkan regarded one of his oldest friends with a glare. "You mean _I_ can no longer run from what's happening." Sig only stared.

Orkan snorted in disgust and took a long draft of the bottle of tequila he had brought for Izumi, only to have to open it ten minutes into the conversation and guzzle it down. "Curse this damned country. Curse the military. Curse _alchemists_!" He dropped the half empty bottle and felt no satisfaction when it shattered against the concrete.

Without another word to his companion, the inebriated man stumbled down the street, anger in every moment. He hated it with every fiber of his being, but Sig was right. There was no more running. It was high time he paid his son a visit.

–_–_–

 **AN:**

 **Knock on wood, Al. Your journey is far from over.**


	16. Wake

Mustang will remember the night he got the call for the rest of his life.

After all, it is hard to forget it, that moment when half of your world comes collapsing down around you because the pillar, the one thing holding you above the ground, falls into a crumbled heap beneath your feet.

It was an average night, he supposed. He had just gotten off of work–finally– and had headed home for a well deserved rest. The investigation with Scar had gotten him nowhere, the man seeming to vanish without a trace back into the ether. Equally as fruitless was his lead on his wayward friend, the trail going as cold as the facade Roy put on every time he was in the thick of the Game. After Jäger disappeared into the dark tunnels beneath Central, Roy had attempted to track him, but likewise he was lost into the winding network beneath the city that would take months to traverse, some of it so old it had passed out of record.

Needless to say, Roy was not having a very good day. And it would only get so, so much worse.

Hughes. He'd barely seen the man in weeks, hectic as their schedules were. As Roy battled the front lines of politics with fervor, Hughes had been there as always, behind the scenes, supporting him in the shadows. If Hawkeye was Roy's right hand, then Hughes had ever been his left, taking care of the dirty work, tracking down the leads that would exalt him into the position of power he was destined for. Roy's dream, and the ultimate betterment of this entire country, was all because of a few casually chosen words from his best friend, the man solely responsible for setting the young officer on his path all those years ago. Maes' belief in Roy was the only thing that had kept him going in those early days, through the drunken nights, through the narcotics and the forbidden research and the gun in his hand, Hughes had seen it all...and saved him from himself. Roy owed him everything.

And now…Now he could do absolutely nothing but watch his friend suffer in silence.

Roy leaned heavily against the glass supporting him as his knees went weak from shock, a hand braced against the cool material the only thing keeping him from falling to his knees as he reeled in disbelief. Riza's frantic call in the middle of the night had wrenched the man from his sleep with a jolt of adrenaline. There were very few people who had the number to his personal line and those people knew never to contact him unless it was an emergency, and so Roy forced himself awake, knowing that if he ignored this call he would no doubt regret it.

Well, that and...there was one other who had his personal line that he hoped rather futily that he would hear from again. How that kid had gotten it was a mystery, but if there was any chance he might call...well, Roy wasn't going to miss it.

With a groan Roy had picked himself up off of his couch where he had fallen asleep with a glass of whiskey in his hand and pulled the receiver to his ear. "Mustang speaking."

The second he heard the voice on the other end of the line, Roy's weariness disappeared in a flash of alarm. "Roy…" Riza's serious tone filtered through the phone. Her mien was unmistakable; something bad had happened. "You need to get to command hospital immediately."

"Riza, what–" Roy started, but was cut off.

"Please, sir, we don't have time. I have to follow them–" a frantic shouting from the background interrupted her and Roy strained his ears to listen. There was struggle, someone shouting, then a sharp order for sedatives yelled above the din. "I have to go. Building seven, room ninety-three. Mustang...It's Hughes."

He hadn't even bothered to dress. Now he stood, knees weak, against the observation glass of Hughes' hospital room. Until that moment, Roy didn't think he ever truly understood how much the man meant to him until Hughes lay deathly pale against the white sheets, shirtless and bandaged, the gauze stained with deep red. But worse than that were the restraints holding him down as doctors bustled about him, his body covered in the abuse of his own struggles against those trying to help him.

A doctor stood beside him now, her voice buzzing in his ear with an update on his best friend's condition. They had found him in the parking lot, right at the front door, bleeding heavily from a stab wound in his shoulder, weak and delirious yet strong enough to try and run away from the one who found him. Repeated attempts to ask him what happened fell on deaf ears as Hughes screamed until his voice box ruptured. He had to be drugged and then restrained before they could treat him. He lay docile against the white sheets now, but only because he was heavily sedated. His eyes were blank, staring into nothing beneath half-mast lids, and yet they still flickered back and forth restlessly, as if seeking some unseen enemy.

"Sir." Riza said, resting a hand on his shoulder. Roy flinched, but could not tear his eyes away from the scene before him. "Sir, they said he will live." The man was finally able to look towards her, her words barely reaching his ears. Belatedly, he realized that the doctor had gone. He hadn't noticed, too busy reeling from the shock of the world nearly ending. Hawkeye stared forward respectfully, giving him a moment to compose himself. "It was touch and go for a while there. His heart nearly gave out from the panic. They say his blood pressure was off the charts when they found him, but the sedatives have calmed him enough for him to rest."

"What the hell happened?" Roy croaked.

Riza pursed her thin lips. "We aren't sure. Investigations is scouring the area now. They found–" The woman cut herself off, flicking her eyes back and forth through the hall. Personnel bustled this way and that, the night shift of the hospital in a tizzy because of the recent drama. Though no one had the energy or wherewithal to pay attention to the two officers, it was only a matter of time before their conversation would draw attention. Riza took in the shock in the pinch of her commanding officer's jaw and gently took him by the arm. "Not here. We need to get out of earshot."

Slowly, as if through a haze, Roy nodded. "Right." His head began to clear slightly, finally seeming to notice his surroundings. He straightened, gently brushing aside Riza's comforting hand. With as much dignity as a man could muster in sweatpants and a loose lounge shirt, he turned on his heels and strode from the hallway, Riza matching his pace a few steps behind him. "Call the others. We meet in my office in thirty."

"Yes, sir."

The hall split and Riza took her leave, striding to his left and out of sight. Roy didn't notice, flickering vision blocking out all else as adrenaline coursed through him. His pace increased till he was almost jogging through the halls and out of the building towards his office. What the hell? What the hell? He couldn't even process anything other than the sight of his friend's face fixed in terror at something he saw, comatose and restrained. He knew that he would never get that image out of his head for as long as he lived. He didn't know what had caused it but he would. Find. Out.

He made it all the way to his office complex's door before he stopped short in front of the closed–and locked–wood. He jiggled the handle once, twice, and then could only clenched his useless hand, remembering belatedly that his keys were still in his discarded uniform's pants at the foot of his couch where he had thrown them earlier that night. Frustration and anger rose in him like too much air filling his lungs and crowding his chest as his hand raised to snap and incinerate the impertinent piece of wood before him, before he exhaled forcefully and slumped against the doors. He took one shuddering deep breath and then another, trying to calm his racing heart. This was not the time to lose it. Anyone could be watching and he needed to calm down.

One more deep breath and he stood back up, muttering to himself. "Calm down. He's still alive…"

A slight noise from behind alerted Roy that he was not alone and he stiffened. Immediately, his mind jumped to the worst conclusion and he berated himself for a fool. Whoever had attacked Hughes could still be here, and here he was running through the empty–but waking– halls of command without any protection, without even his gloves!

...Good, Roy thought, a sudden and vicious anger scorching through him like one of his flames. He almost hoped that when he turned around he would come face to face with the attacker and tear them apart.

Abruptly, Roy turned, preparing himself to the worst, fingers tensed in anticipation to snap, even if there was no ignition materials to give him the friction he needed–

The jangle of keys in a tanned hand gave Mustang pause as his adrenaline sharpened mind registered the taciturn man the hand belonged to. Slowly, Mustangs shoulders relaxed and he let out an aggravated sigh to release the tension of the almost-confrontation. "Second Lieutenant Barret," he acknowledged, taking the key that would allow him into his office, only to blink at them in confusion. The unspoken question hung between them.

"Sir," Barret's timbre responded calmly, and Mustang studied his face, wondering if he knew what had happened. Inwardly he scoffed. Of course he knew.

"You–" Mustang started, but Barret merely shook his head slightly, flicking his eyes to the corner of the hall where Mustang knew surveillance cameras recorded.

Roy fell silent and turned abruptly, berating himself for being so absurdly unguarded, and forced the slightly trembling key into the office door and shoved it open, gesturing sharply for the younger man to get inside. Without further invitation, Barret ridgely strode into the workspace, past the paper flooded desks and into the sanctum of the colonel's inner office. Mustang followed at a more subdued pace, eyes narrowing suspiciously as his best friend's protege began deliberately sweeping his office for bugs. With every sweep of the man's stoic eyes the knot in the colonel's chest became tighter with anticipation and impatience.

"What do you know?" Mustang finally snapped as Barret ran his hand under the lip of his desk for the fifth time. There was nothing there, Hughes had checked his office for bugs just the previous day, and with a pang Roy remembered the drawn visage of his friend, as exhausted as Roy himself.

Barret froze and stood slowly, and Roy noticed vaguely that despite his calm expression, the younger man was anything but relaxed. Roy didn't know him particularly well, as Hughes hoarded his agents jealously like precious jewels and rarely lended them to other departments, but he had had enough contact with this man in the past few years to know that the tense line in his shoulder and eratic behavior was not like him.

With an almost imperceptible indrawn breath, Barret straightened. In contrast to Roy's exhausted and guarded slump against the corner of his desk, he stood stalk still and straight, vibrating with energy. "I needed to report to you before you heard anything regarding the incident that happened tonight."

Those words hung in the air for a split second, and Mustang almost demanded answers before slowly closing his mouth in consideration at the man's earnest frown. Even as Barret hadn't even said anything yet, his manner spoke volumes, and Roy's mind jumped into hyperdrive at the implications.

"In several hours, you will receive news that the weapon of the suspect has been found on the premises of Hughes' attack. It will belong to subordinate of Major Armstrong; Second Lieutenant Maria Ross."

Several emotions blazed through Mustang in that moment; disbelief, rage, confusion, and then complete bafflement. No, that didn't make any sense. Barret nodded as if he could pluck the thoughts straight out of the older man's head.

"Scapegoat," Mustang growled anyway, and Barret confirmed.

"She will be arrested at first light."

Anger began boiling in the center of Mustang's chest as the silence stretched between them. Hughes hadn't just been attacked, he had been silenced. Someone was trying to cover it up by framing Ross. And that someone was undoubtedly within the military itself, or Barret would have been using official channels for this investigation.

Barret allows Mustang a moment more to think before speaking again. "It gets worse, sir," he says quietly, and the older man pauses at the sudden emotion in his voice.

"When does it not?" Mustang scoffs sarcastically, nodding for him to continue.

Barret fills him in on the investigation they had been in the middle of, briefing Mustang on their discoveries, most of which Roy knew of, but some he didn't, and finally explained the article that spooked Hughes into throwing Barret out of the investigation. Mustang's fingers twitched to pull the previous day's paper from his wastebasket and scour the article himself, but knew that if Barret didn't know what it meant, then he would have little luck. Instead, he tucked Hughes' discovery aside for now.

"I was halfway home before I finally turned back," Barret admits. "But before I could reach is office, I came across a trail of blood. I followed it into the records room. There were signs of a violent struggle, blood that did not seem to be Hughes' alone, a map of Amestris torn from its volume..."

"He was trying to leave us a message…" Mustang realizes, and Barret nods.

"I followed his trail to the the communications room, watched as it about faced and trailed towards the parking lot." Barret's voice became clipped, devoid of inflection as he seems to shy from some emotion. "That's where I found him. He was not alone, and by the time I got to him..it was too late."

"Who?" Mustang barked, resisting the urge to jump up and shake the answers out of the stoic man. "What did they do to him?!"

"I don't know what they did," Barret said slowly. "I turned the corner and they were already stepping away. By the time I got there, they were already gone."

"Lieutenant. Who?"

"Alex Elric."

Roys expression froze. The words echoed into the suddenly ringing silence in his ears, and he could see that Barret had continued talking, but he couldn't hear him as the treacherous name sunk in. At first he was sure he had heard wrong, because that couldn't be. It was preposterous. The same Alex who was a brother to the Elrics, the same young man who had sat in this very office, in his home, and told him of his past and listened to his own without judgement or condemnation? The same young man who Roy knew regarded Hughes' family as his own, betray Hughes, betray his own brothers?

Betray Roy?

Barret had stopped talking and regarded Mustang carefully, but the older man was trapped behind his stoic mask in the maelstrom of his emotions, couldn't pay attention to him for the burn of the note Alex had left for him in his jacket pocket. The boy had gone missing, shaken all of them at his loss, only to come back and stab Roy through the heart by harming one of the only other people Roy cared about more. It...it was–

"Impossible," Roy said abruptly. He leaned back and crossed his arms aggressively, daring Barret to contradict him.

Barret regarded him silently for a few moments before speaking. "There was one other," he said slowly, as if expecting Mustang to interrupt him again. He did not. "He was dressed in the same black clothing as the female homunculus and matches the profile of one of the creatures Edward described to us."

"So he is still being held captive by them."

"...Possibly."

Mustang could hear the skepticism and quiet anger in the other, but could not bring himself to entertain the possibility that they had all been betrayed. "What of Hughes' message?" he asked, partly to change the subject and partly because whatever Hughes had found, he needed to know. Something had spooked Hughes, something so big it had forced the homunculi to retaliate. He wanted so badly to talk to his best friend, to demand he tell him what happened, but the one person who knew the entire story was so heavily damaged he had to be strapped down to a table so he wouldn't hurt himself. No...whatever it was Hughes would not be able to help him. Not this time.

"There was nothing on his person except his photos."

Mustang closed his eyes and resisted the urge to pinch his nose in an effort to relieve the pounding headache that nearly drowned out every other sound in the room. Instead, he merely let out a long sigh and forced his mind to think through it. "How many people knew of Hughes' investigation?"

"Only you and I knew, sir."

"Good. Gather all of the evidence you can and have it moved to a safe place. Then forget everything we spoke of today." Mustang was already sinking into his own thoughts, making plans, and clearly dismissed the man before him.

But Barret did not move to follow his orders, and Mustang looked up with a frown. "With all due respect, sir, I refuse." He did not back down from Mustang's intimidating glare, and returned it with a look of his own.

"We were at a breakthrough, sir," he continued quietly. "I know I can see what he saw. Just give me time."

Mustang was already shaking his head. "Hughes did not want you involved."

"Hughes isn't here!" The sudden loudness of his shout startled them both, but he pressed on in a more subdued tone. "Even if you cut me out, I will still investigate this. There is no one more qualified in investigations that he trusted more than myself. You need me." And Roy would have bristled at that statement were it not for the complete lack of hubris in Barret's voice. He was only stating the truth, after all.

"You could have the same thing happen to you that happened to Hughes," Roy warned.

"I wouldn't be surprised if I weren't already in danger, sir. Besides, Alex was my family too. I don't know what drove him to do what he did, but I will find out."

Several moments passed in silence as Roy considered, appraising the investigator before him. He had seen more emotion on the younger man's face this one night than he had in the several years they had been acquainted, and he could not detect any deceit. Perhaps he was right. Without Hughes, Roy's information network was crippled, and while he had other avenues to obtain news, he knew it would still be a challenge without him. It was a risk...but Hughes had trusted Barret, and so Roy would also.

The colonel shoved himself up from the desk and stood straight. "Congratulations Major, you've just been promoted. Keep me updated on tonight's incident. For right now, I need you out there with your nose to the ground. Dismissed."

Barret's face fell into his usual impassive mien before snapping a sharp salute and striding through the door. Roy stared at the now empty door for several seconds before closing his eyes and leaning back against his desk in exhaustion. Drained was a mild descriptor for the emptiness he felt in his body, and the ache in his head. He knew in a few moments his office would be flooded with his subordinates for a briefing on the situation, and for the life of him, he could not think of what to tell them. That Hughes had been attacked by one of their own, someone who they used to trust?

You don't know that, he thought to himself angrily. There was no evidence that Alex was the one who harmed him, just that he had been sighted. But it looked bad. And even as he tried to deny it, sharp stabs of betrayal burned in the back of his throat. What if it was true? Would he risk the others' lives on the off chance that this wasn't what it looked like?

As the door clicked open and his friends and supporters began filing into the room with grim looks and tensed shoulders, Mustang swallowed hard and steeled his mask once more.

No, no he wouldn't.

o0o

I stared down in stoic silence, the oppressive walls of the small room I sat in comforting rather than claustrophobic, because for the first time since my liberation I was alone. In my hand was a small square. Such a little thing, really, just a piece of paper. In the big scheme of things it was merely an insignificant scrap, meaningless to all but a few. If a stranger looked at this, they would feel nothing more than a passing interest at most, and even the people who knew the subject might only feel a flicker of recognition, give a small smile at its humor.

But for me, the little paper, the little image barely visible in the nearly complete darkness, threw my world upside down, reversed time, and stopped it at an impossibly precarious edge. It mercilessly awoke a part of me that I had long thought dead since coming to this world, something I shouldn't feel, because it felt like I was betraying my past to feel it. I also have enough self awareness to recognize when something isn't real, even if one so desperately wants it that it eats away at them inside. I have to wonder if Hughes knew, had known all along, or if this was all just some mistake that he slipped this to me in his last moments, just another one of his photos accidentally slid into a file meant for someone else. Perhaps it was even meant for the subject himself, but it was just my luck that this innocent little thing meant for him came to my hands to strike me in the chest with all of the force of a derailing freight train. Either way...well. Either way.

Roy Mustang slouched exhaustively on a mahogany couch. He glared balefully into the camera, eyes heavy as if just waking from a nap and annoyed at the lense pointed in his direction. Hair disheveled, top two buttons undone and skin warm with the reflection of the fireplace that no doubt roared merrily across from him, the photo almost looked like it could be sensual...save for the small seven year old child splayed across his lap. Nina lay on her stomach across his legs, unabashedly using the man as a pillow and blissfully unaware that the two were being spied on by a mischievous cameraman, completely comfortable and contented to continue her snooze. The camera angle was off, nearly cutting off the top of Roy's spiked hair. There was a smudge on the lense. The lighting was slightly too dark.

It was the most beautiful photo I had ever seen.

I lowered the small square and moved my gaze to the other item Hughes had slipped me moments before I stole a part of his soul. It was a map of Amestris, lines and circles scrawled over it haphazardly, the names of cities and dates connected in a sweeping, hastily drawn arc. I didn't know what any of it meant, only that the blood absorbed into it's crumpled folds and his desperation to hide it marked it as a dire warning that would never reach who it was intended for.

I looked back at the small photo in my hand and didn't fight it as Hughes' stolen courage welled up within me, awakening warm feelings I hadn't even been sure I was capable of anymore. It made me feel like I could do anything, anything at all, if only I stopped hiding, stopped being afraid. A small smile curled my lip as I tucked both pages back into my clothes and out of sight.

I had a message to deliver.

o0o

AN:

Wow. Has it really been so long since I updated this? No wonder some of my readers sent me messages politely enquiring as to whether I was still alive. I guess lots of stuff happened while I was adulting and I let this slip away from me, haha. Thanks everyone.

Anyway, Mustang feels betrayed! But Alex is feeling hopeful for the first time in forever thanks to Hughes' courage. I hope ya'll can read between the lines with that photo, because I'm not going to give it away. Speculate to your heart's content, my friends, I'll be interested to see what you think in the comments.

Next chapters are going to be Alex's show, and he's got a comeback to make, so this should be hella fun. See you next time, and you guys can bet it will be a lot sooner than my last update!


	17. My World

The creek of the ancient door opening came in turns too soon and not soon enough. Too soon, because really, I couldn't stand the company of the creatures I had been forced to coexist with as of late, and not soon enough because I was practically vibrating with the energy pent up from the need to _do something._

Mercilessly, I had been left to my own devices after the altercation with Hughes. Just as before, the influx of emotion had been too much for me to deal with, leaving it to the dubious discretion of Envy to get me to a safe place for me to process it. While obviously infinitely more pleasant to deal with than rage, courage was just as raw, just as uncontrollable by itself. I don't really remember much about what happened right after I stole a piece of Hughes' soul, just brief flashes of mindlessly following after my amused companion until I was shut into complete darkness. I don't know how long it'd been since I shut down completely, cradling that small piece of Hughes carefully inside of my chest like a precious jewel, just that by the time I was able to 'wake up' I was curled into a loose ball on my side in an unfamiliar room, the only source of light a dim flicker beneath a sealed door. The first thought to take me was, wow, I could tear down that door in a heartbeat. Then the second was that I really, really didn't want to.

Memories washed over me of my and Hughes' final moments, of his disbelief, fear….betrayal. And I suppose I deserved it. All of it. But even as guilt and pain clawed at my throat for what I did to him and his family, I can't help but feel so terribly relieved, because despite everything, _he's still alive_. At least there was _hope_. It could have gone so differently, had it been up to Envy and Lust. I could see their plan now, the one that was almost executed; the gun Envy held to one of my dearest friends, the face for the innocent woman he wore that would condemn her for the crime, the wash of blood across Hughes' chest. Oh, it could have been so, so much worse.

I know I broke him. I knew even as I turned away before I could see what I had done, I knew that this would damage him terribly, because no matter how I hid my eyes, I could _hear_ it. His screams chased me all the way down as I retreated into myself to protect the little piece of him I stole, body on autopilot as I fled. My only hope was that somehow, someday I would be able to reverse the damage.

It was as I curled into myself tighter on the cold cement floor that I felt the crinkle of something foreign against my skin. Frowning in confusion, and making quite sure I was completely alone–there were no seams in short walls or cameras in the corners–I pulled out a wrinkled and stained wad of paper that changed _everything._

I had lost much, yes, but there was still _so much_ to fight for.

Ever since the Gate...no, ever since I was pulled to this world, if I am being honest. The Gate merely showed me the truth of what I had already lost. In the emptiness afterward, I had grieved, but what, truly, was I grieving _for?_ Not my lost child, nor my lost lover, not even the place I had in the other world...no. I had already grieved for them, whether I was conscious of it or not. I was cut open by my loss of _purpose_. And it's funny, but that tiny picture, and that crumpled up piece of paper gave me a new one.

I know I'm selfish, I _know_ that. The perspective I've had all of this time, only thinking of myself, _my_ escape, _my_ return to my original world...but what about this one? I had loathed this world, yes, but slowly came to love it just as much as my own, grown to love the people in it. I have family here. And all I could think about was me, what I'm going through, what I lost. I...I was ashamed. If I escaped, what then? I'm no hero, I never have been. And even now I can honestly say that if it was a choice between all the nameless faces in Amestris and just one person I loved, I would choose that one over all. But Hughes gave two things that might just make it all worth it; hope that despite everything there was still a place for me in this world, and the courage to fight for it.

I was done being the victim. This was _my_ world now, and these creatures were _not going to mess it up._

Even now Hughes' message burned into my skin beneath my shirt, carefully hidden behind my belt and folded tight enough to not make a sound with my movements. Loathe as I was to damage the precious gift he gave me, I knew that I would have to destroy the small photo before it was discovered and became just another thing to use against me. Likewise, I spent as much time as I was able to to perfectly memorize the dates and scrawls etched into the map so I would be able to replicate it when the time came. As soon as I had a single second without surveillance, I would destroy that too.

Not knowing when I would be called on again, I used the unexpected time I was given to plan.

I could see what I needed to do, I just didn't know how to get there. How would I give these creeps the slip? They watched me constantly, never really letting me out of their sight. How was I supposed to get a message to Roy, especially if they didn't trust me–

A small grunt, a mutilation of a laugh really, was pulled from deep in my chest. And that was it, wasn't it? The homunculi needed to trust me.

A small spark of an idea began to form behind my eyes, not really a plan, but something I could begin to do to reach my ends. The homunculi wanted me on their side, so well, what if I was? I cringed but tried not to shy away from the idea of willingly doing their bidding, without argument or resistance. These powers I was given, I could use them to avoid dealing out death like they seemed partial to, as long as I was smart about it. Eventually, I hope they would trust me enough to allow me to do things on my own.

Every inch of me rebelled against the idea of just passively doing what I'm told, however, and I knew then that I would have to do something else as well. I wanted...I wanted to tear them apart from the inside. I wanted to tear that stupid smug grin off of Envy's face, rip Lust's black heart out and shove it down that monster Gluttony's throat, but it wouldn't really do any good. There _was_ something, however, that I could work with.

Envy and Lust hated each other. And that was something I could use.

I opened my eyes and stared directly into the too bright light, both a dull dread and a new excitement clamoring around my head.

"Well, look who's finally awake," Envy drawled, draping his thin form against the ancient door frame, light from a grate far above illuminating his back. "I was sure I would have to get rid of your vacant corpse."

"You'd miss me," I quipped, standing smoothly and brushing off my stale clothes. "How long was I out this time?"

Envy smirked at my casual tone, and I couldn't decide whether it was predatory or just amused. "Long enough for you to gather dust, sleeping beauty."

It was clearly meant as an insult, but I smiled. "Oh? And are you my prince charming come to wake me with a loving kiss? I hate to say it, but that form isn't doing it for me."

A flash of annoyance before that sharp smile was back. "Would you rather Lust came to wake you?"

The shudder that rattled through my frame was immediate and noticeable, and I did not hide my disgust at the notion, using it to cover my fear. My expression pulled a laugh from the other man and a forced a few chuckles from my tight throat, doing my best to act as if I shared in on the joke.

"You should have seen her face," Envy grinned, tone dangerous. I leaned back slightly, though I tried my best not to make it obvious, and projected as much smugness into my expression as I could. "She was livid when she realized what you'd done, ruining her _perfect_ plan like that."

A strained chuckle. "What's to ruin? That plan was far from foolproof to begin with. Besides, I wanted to try it out. I mean did you see," I swallow, trying hard to disguise my guilt as excitement, "did you see the look on that guy's face when I stole his courage. He was _terrified._ "

"Oh, yes," Envy licked his lips, remembering with distinct pleasure. He stalked into the room, and I tense. "But don't even _try_ to pretend you weren't protecting him. You only did that because you _cared_." The word was layered with more disdain than I thought possible, as if the very thought of caring for someone was the most absurd and disgusting thing he had ever heard of. My heart clenched, because of course he had seen my initial reaction to them killing Hughes.

 _Careful_ , I thought, _careful_. "Of course I did," I said firmly, taking a stab in the dark and hoping it didn't come back to bite me in the ass. I allowed steel into my voice, and some of the actual loathing I felt. "I owed him a lot. And besides, what do I owe you? What the hell do I owe _Lust_? Sure, she might have had something to do with creating me, and she might hold the reins to my freedom," at this, Envy's smile widened knowingly, but I ignored it in favor of continuing my rant. "I might even have to do what she says, but let me tell you, I would have given up an arm to see that look on her face when she realized I used my power in front of you when she clearly wanted to keep it to herself," I allowed myself a small mischievous smile, "well, to say it would feel pretty good would be an understatement."

Envy threw back his head and laughed, the cackle scraping across the walls and the chamber beyond the open door loudly and gratingly. "Oh, I think I like you. You're a plucky little brat aren't you?"

A bit emboldened, I let my attitude slip. "Little? I dunno if you've looked in the mirror lately, beanpole, but last I checked we were the same size."

A low growl was my only warning before violently I lost my breath to the solid wall behind me. Blinded by the sudden flash of light, I strained against the now very large hand holding me by the throat. Envy had shifted again, much faster than he had before, into a dark skinned man large enough to give Sig a run for his money. "I would check the attitude, little brat, if you want to survive," a rough growling voice whispered in my face with fetid breath, smelling of decay and moist places that never see the sun. I shuddered and fell still, trying desperately to hold back the urge to struggle. My vision began spotting as both blood flow and air were denied my body. Still, with my best glare, I calmly asserted my own staggering strength and pried his hand from my throat. With only a small spark of surprise, Envy allowed it.

I forced out an amused cough. "You couldn't kill me even if I wanted you to."

The hand was wrenched away fast enough to make my hands sting, and I barely caught myself from collapsing forward, hacking coughs wracking my frame.

"That's where you are wrong," Envy said matter of factly. "You think you can't die. But let me assure you, it just takes slightly more _effort._ " With a flash he was a back to his original form and striding out of the door casually, threat delivered. "Now come along, brat, Father wants to see you."

For a long moment, I couldn't force myself to move. Did he say...I could die? My eyes widened, and an emotion flowed through me that was probably the complete opposite I should feel at the very real threat.

 _Relief._

I could _die!_ This wasn't just some never ending hell I would have to endure for eternity, there was a way I could be released from this world…!

Slowly, I met the gloating eyes of Envy, who had stopped at the door to no doubt enjoy the look of fear in my face. Or what he interpreted as fear. After all, how could he know that he had just delivered some of the best news I had heard in a long, _long_ time? And with that aggravating smug look I came to another wonderful conclusion. If I could die, so could they.

I turned my face away before my small smile could make itself known, and stood to join Envy at the door, head bowed. "Father, huh? I haven't seen that guy since the Gate."

"Yeah, well, you'll be seeing a lot more of him now that you're actually useful." Envy sneered, gesturing grandly for me to follow him.

I did in silence, cloth shoes scraping softly against the damp floor. Should I be happy about this? Probably not. But the thought of my own mortality sent a small trickle of warmth around my frozen heart, nonetheless.

It was two hours before either of us spoke again. I was too deep into my own thoughts really to mind that Envy was keeping a slow, meandering pace through the smelly dank of Central's underbelly. In fact, my mood was so lifted that he could have walked us through raw sewage and I don't think I would complain. As soon as I had that thought, something dead and decayed passed in the steady stream beside us, and I wrinkled my nose. Well, maybe I would complain a little. Envy seemed just as content to ponder his own thoughts, and I wondered if there was a reason he didn't seem to be in a hurry. Wasn't Father their boss or something?

"...Where are the others?" I asked finally.

"Heh, probably waiting for us."

Ah. So it was an attitude thing. I could get behind that. "I see how it is. You just wanted to keep my scintillating company all to yourself."

"More like I enjoy taking the others' toys."

I didn't even try to hide the wince at that wording. "Hm, well I am quite the prize."

I got a derisive chuckle for my efforts. "You never quit do you?"

"Can't say I've ever found my off switch, no."

"I'll give you one if you don't shut the hell up."

"..."

"..."

"...So shapeshifting, huh?"

Envy growled and I wisely fell silent. I flicked a pebble into the tainted water running beside us and resigned myself to the long walk ahead. Turns out my taciturn guide was over his little game, however, and picked up his pace. Or maybe he just found me too annoying to deal with any longer. Whatever.

Gradually the dank drainage tunnels transformed into abandoned halls of facilities that were clearly no longer in use. Unmarked doors, their numbers faded and uses long since forgotten, passed us by, most closed but some ajar to hint at what their contents might have been. It was truly an extensive network, and I couldn't have kept track of the twists and turns if I tried. I wouldn't be surprised if there were whole communities of homeless and wretched living down here...

Seemingly at random, Envy abruptly stopped and turned to an unmarked door. Before I could ask him what he was up to, he slammed his foot into it, wrenching it open with a crack.

"Brat's awake," he bellowed into what I could tell was an exponentially larger room. I took a fraction of a second to compose myself, brushing lightly against Hughes' soul, allowing it to warm me with its courage. Then I squared my shoulders and stepped inside.

I gaped in disbelief as I gazed around the strange chamber. It was at least ten stories high, perhaps more. I couldn't tell because it faded into black the higher up I looked, and the top was hidden by glaring white light I could not see the source of, maybe opening up to the sky. The walls were obscured by thick, roping cables so dense the underlying structure could not be seen. I tracked them all the way down to the floor and they seemed to writhe into a central mound in the middle of the immense room, something that looked like a chair sat atop it. I couldn't see who, if anyone, sat in it because we had obviously entered from a back entrance. Envy was already halfway through the room, making his way around the mound, and I scrambled to catch up, careful not to trip over the masses of cables. A niggling of a memory tickled my mind, and I realized that I had actually been here before. It had been just after I 'woke' from my prison.

As I walked around, others were revealed. Envy, Gluttony and Lust were all present, but there were also two more I didn't recognize; one a small boy no older than six or seven with black hair and an unsettling smile, and an older gentleman in a white shirt and slacks. I felt I should now from somewhere, but the face–an eyepatch obscuring one eye and a black mustache– escaped me. Lust's eyes locked onto me and I looked away, coming to a stop as far from the group as I could manage.

"So we are all here," a booming voice echoed through the room, drawing my eyes up from my feet to the man who spoke.

He sat upon the chair as if it were a throne, wreathed in white and illuminated by the light above. If I wasn't so intimidated, I might have been amused by the obvious god-complex the man seemed to have. But there was nothing remotely funny about this situation. Father, or Truth or whatever he wanted to call himself held the guise of an older man, long blonde hair glowing in the dim and framing a strong jawed face, eyes narrowed around indeterminable irises. I frowned, examining his features. I feel like...I feel like I've seen him before. Not from the Gate, or when I woke up but…

I was distracted as one of the homunculi I didn't recognize spoke up. The child's voice held a cold amusement that lowered the temperature in the room, and sounded much more intelligent than was natural for such a young mind. "Well, not all of us, though I'm certain Sloth wouldn't care either way. And Greed, well," he let the statement draw out, and Envy grinned maliciously. Gluttony didn't even look like he was paying attention.

"So, who's the new kid?" the child sneered, and I shuddered at his cloying tone.

"That, Pride, is your new younger brother," Father gestured magnanimously. "He is Empathy."

"Alex Elric." I startled badly at the sound of my name–a name I hadn't heard in a _long_ while– and whirled around to face the unnamed man. Immediately, I took a step back at the threatening promise of death in his one gleaming eye, though I noted that instead of the rouge of my counterparts, it was a startling icy blue. "You'll have to forgive me. I had my suspicions about you since the Elric brat joined the military, but had I known who you were I would have greeted you sooner." At this his frigid glare released me and settled on Lust, who stared indifferently back, unmoved by the harsh lines of hatred etched in the man's face.

Lust examined her nails, unrepentant. "I didn't even know he was going to survive, my dear. Otherwise you would have been the _first_ to know."

"A blatant lie," the man said, dangerously calm. "I know how you get with your toys, _my dear_."

"Wait…how do you know me?" I interjected.

"Because, I happen to be the one who holds your brother's leash. My name is Wrath," a grim smile exposed his canines. "But I'm better known as Fuhrer King Bradley."

I mouthed the words to myself in shock. The King. He was the _King of Amestris_. This country was in so. Much. Shit. And I couldn't stop the pool of panic in my stomach from showing on my face because somehow, even though I already knew it was bad, this revelation just made it all so much worse than any of us had ever thought. I had to tell someone–Roy, he had to know–

"Now, now, children, enough of that," Father said calmly before I could properly react, or perhaps rashly act on the impulse to run through the streets yelling out the terrible truth to anyone who would listen, to warn them of the snake in their midst. "You know of course, my son, that that information never leaves this room." He stared down at me coldly as he said this, but it wasn't the tone that jarred me. I gasped as a heavy force seemed to settle onto my shoulders, rattling my bones and sending blood rushing through my ears. A second passed and then two, and the force only got more intense. Bewildered, I staggered to my knees, eyes blown wide in fear. The others stood impassively, watching. " _Am I understood?_ " And this time, the voice was so loud it practically vibrated the walls. But no, it was just because I was trembling so badly and _it was in my head_.

"Yes! YES!" I gasped pitifully, bowing under the pressure. And suddenly it was gone, leaving me reeling on my hands and knees. And that was where I stayed, shuddering and not daring to lift my eyes. Someone snickered, and I couldn't tell if it was Envy or Pride.

"Stand," Father said in a much more gentle voice, and I forced my eyes and knees from the floor, not daring to disobey. "I did not summon you here to berate you, after all, but to welcome you to our number. However, there is something that needs to be addressed. I heard you interfered with the job of silencing the man who had been a thorn in my side for a while now?"

I could practically feel ice stabbing into my bones from Lust's angry gaze on my back, but unexpectedly, I got support from Envy, of all people.

"Oh, oh," he cackled. "We won't be hearing from that one again. Empathy _destroyed_ him."

I flinched, too shaken to hide my reactions in time. Envy laughed louder. Father raised a regal brow at Wrath to confirm, and the false king nodded, one sharp jerk of his chin. A kindly smile that did not reach his eyes spread over Father's face then, and I could not hold his gaze. "Wonderful then. It seems like your fears were unfounded, my dear Lust." A displeased hum came from behind me, and I dare not look. "I will have you perform more tasks in time, Empathy. Be sure continue to do me proud."

I nodded in assent, stomach roiling and acid licking at my throat. I shifted and drew strength from the sharp points of paper digging into my skin. I would find a way. I _had_ to….

"Now then, there is another matter I have summoned you all for," his gaze moved away from me and I let out a subtle sigh of relief. "There has been quite a bit of activity in the South. There are rumors of strange half beasts beneath the city," he smiled. "And their leader sounds very familiar indeed."

"The South," Bradley mused. "There are more than rumors if my sources are to be believed. Also, the Elric boys have traveled there recently, if I'm not mistaken." I willed myself not to react.

"That settles it then," Father said with a wave. "Destroy the creatures and bring their leader to me. And if you see the Elrics...well, try not to kill them. I would rather not face the inconvenience of finding replacements."

"I'll do my best," Wrath affirmed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But I make no promises." He turned on his heels and stalked from the room. With an annoyed sigh, Pride lifted himself from the floor and followed him out without a word.

I kept my head down, shoulders rigid with the effort not to watch them leave. Or better yet, stop them. Ed and Al were in danger, but I couldn't do anything to help. Not here, not now with all these monsters around. I could feel the others' gazes on me, waiting for me to react, but I didn't let them see it. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax, looking up at Father's approving face.

No, if I wanted to make any difference at all, I would just have to hope that my brothers would be able to handle it on their own. For now...my place was here.

o0o

AN:

^ 3 ^ Hm, wonder who that could be? And the plot hastens.


	18. Ally

My ears rushed, like a strong wind blew through the utterly still room, blocking out all sound but the pounding of my heart. The echo of the large door shutting still reverberated through my mind like a physical percussion. It took everything within my power to hold my body still from panicking and running after the Fuhrer to try and keep him from my brothers. It was only the knowledge that for some reason these creatures needed them alive that was able to calm myself enough to stay put. Ed and Al could take care of themselves, they had proven so over and over again. In fact, I would say that they would have gotten along just fine if I had never even existed in this world, there was no doubt about that. I would just have to trust that whatever the false king had in store for them, they could handle it.

Besides, even if I wanted to stop them, there was absolutely no way I would be able to. I would easily be overpowered…and then I would be back where I started, with zero chance of helping anyone.

The cold brush of a finger against the back of my neck was my only warning before I was pulled back by unyielding arms into Lust's soft body. With a startled gasp I went rigid as one arm wrapped around my waist and the other sidled up to the base of my throat, squeezing gently. As per every time she invaded my personal space, I was torn between shoving her off and damning the consequences and allowing it if only to avoid the fight.

"Good boy," Lust purred into my ear, long hair tickling my cheek and shoulder as she wrapped around me. "You couldn't do anything anyway. You might as well forget about those brats… they abandoned you after all…"

A sharp spike of pain assaulted my chest at her words, as they echoed the thoughts I had had many times in the indeterminable months I had been imprisoned. But I pushed it down and remained silent. With my rather dubious freedom my senses had long returned, along with the helpful knowledge it had really only been a couple of weeks since I last saw them. If I knew my brothers–and I most certainly believed I did–they had not given up on me. I had to believe that, or I truly would be lost.

The thought comforted me, and I relaxed despite myself. Unfortunately, Lust took that as an invitation to place her frigid lips against the sensitive skin between my jaw and ear. I locked up immediately, body going stiff as a board and eyes widening in shock.

A surge of adrenaline had me moving faster than I had in either of my lives, wrenching her–suspiciously unresistant–arms from my person and propelling me out of her grip. I turned on her as if she was a dangerous animal and stumbled back, hand clutching at the cooled spot she left on my skin in an effort to erase the feeling.

Several seconds passed as she stared at me, not seeming at all perturbed by my sudden departure, her arms still opened as if to welcome me back. My hackles raised at the look in her eyes. She appeared utterly convinced I would come to her eventually, that my resistance now was only a temporary inconvenience.

As if.

Loud laughter broke our little stalemate and I let my attention waver from the woman in front of me to see Envy with his head thrown back, chortling into the air as if this was the most amusing thing he had seen all year. "Oh, ho! It looks like your little pet doesn't like your touch, vixen." He leaned forward with a gloating grin. "How does it feel to be rejected, hm? Not so perfect after all, are you?"

A low animalistic growl had me stepping back a few more paces as Lust lips dipped into a deep frown. I stayed well back as the two homunculi locked challenging gazes, the tension in the air thick between them. I tensed and prepared to run, tersely reminding myself in my head that their rivalry is a good thing… as long as I didn't get caught between them, that is.

"Now, now, children, enough of that," Father, who I had momentarily forgotten was there, spoke out commandingly. Envy huffed and Lust turned back forward with a more neutral expression. "Lust, my dear, I need to you to go to the surface and make sure the pawns are doing as they are told. I don't need any more screw-ups."

"I've already given them all the evidence they need," Lust said tightly, still clearly bothered. "If those fools still can't manage to arrest one measly human then–"

"Lust," Father said, a warning in his voice. It carried an obvious threat with it, though Father had not moved from his languid recline above us. I flicked my eyes back and forth between the two, trying to figure out what they were talking about, but came up empty.

Lust pursed her lips and fell silent. "Yes, Father." She glared at me. "Come Empathy."

"No," Father interjected, stopping me from automatically following the command. I fell still, internally berating myself for the knee jerk reaction. "I want Empathy to go with Envy."

"What?" Envy immediately protested, but one look from Father reduced him to irritated muttering, too low to hear.

"I need you to focus," Father addressed Lust. "This mission will take finesse, and you don't need to be...distracted. Take Gluttony with you, and make sure he stays out of trouble."

Yes, a little less being distracted by Empathy, please. In fact, forget I even exist. I wasn't really sure how I felt about the reassignment, but one thing I knew was that it was very satisfying to see the look of muted rebellion and displeasure on Lust's face. At least I would be away from her for a while. I could use a break from her steadily increasing sexual harassment.

Even if I would have to deal with Envy instead.

Without another word, Lust spun on her heel glided out of the room. I watched her leave, grateful, but then a small movement drew my attention to the previously ignored homunculus in the room, one I had almost forgotten about in his silence. A thrill slithered down my sides as I registered Gluttony's unwavering, empty gaze on my person, expression unreadable except for a small wrinkle of stress at the corner of his overly wide mouth. For several unsettling moments he merely stood there before a sharp command from Lust had him scurrying out behind her. My stomach roiled with nerves as I watched him retreat, knowing in my gut that someday soon he and I would most likely have a match to the death over Lust's affections, no matter how much I wished she would just leave me alone. Somehow I doubted my feelings would stop Gluttony from trying to eat me.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do with this brat hanging off of me all day?" Envy asked, attitude dripping off every word.

"I have no use for you at the moment. Why don't you go make sure our guest is still alive and on task? As for Empathy, do what you will with him, just make sure he doesn't get into trouble." With that Father closed his eyes in dismissal, going back to...whatever he was doing before we all got there.

Well. I didn't like the sound of that. I watched Envy's face carefully for any sign of devious machinations with my person, but he merely glared at Father with annoyance before letting out a loud huff and stalking out of the room in the same direction we came.

For several beats I didn't follow, wondering what I was supposed to do, but a glance at Father's unsettling figure had me scurrying after Envy in haste to get out of the old man's presence. I'm not sure what power it is he has over me–something with me being a part of his soul?–but I definitely didn't want to test him again. Comparatively, Envy's sour presence was something I would much rather deal with, death threats and all.

I stepped into the darkened hall and paused, watching Envy's retreating back. The picture of Roy and Nina burned against my skin, a constant reminder of what I needed to do. I was away from Lust now, and Envy didn't seem to care one lick about me or what I would do. Perhaps...perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to make a move.

"Come on, brat, I haven't got all goddamn day!" Envy growled, and I hastened to catch up.

"Yes, you do," I quipped. Envy grunted a laugh of amusement, much to my surprise. Huh. He has a sense of humor after all.

"Sooo," I started, and he rolled his eyes over to glare at me, clearly wanting me to shut up but seeming resigned to my constant chatter. After all, it wasn't like death threats were going to deter me anymore. "Who is getting arrested now?"

"Who do you think? I know you're rather dim, but you were there after all." Envy spoke casually, boredom leaking off every word as he trudged forward through the muck, following a path that only he knew.

I thought back, not the least bit perturbed by his sultry attitude at this point, to the events that we had experienced together. With a sinking heart, I came to the only conclusion I could. They were still framing Maria Ross for Hughes' attack. "Still?" I muttered, wincing at the memory of Hughes' face as he went down. "I figured there would be no point since he didn't actually die."

Envy chortled. "I think you did a pretty good amount of damage, kid. Besides, we still need a scapegoat and the plan was already set."

I bit the inside of my lip, holding back the scathing retort I wanted to give him. I had thought that maybe Ross would be spared. I didn't know her all that well, save for the couple weeks she had been assigned to guard us, but I owed her more than this. Still, I had to choose between her and Hughes. I might come off as a bastard for saying so, but the choice was obvious. "Kid?" I rasped, voice slightly rough for the forced teasing in my tone, "Not brat? I must be growing on you."

"Like a damn fungus," Envy was quick to reply. "Why the hell Father dumped you on me…." he devolved into sullen muttering that I didn't care to interpret. The few broken curse words I could hear let me know I wasn't missing much.

"Complain all you want," I said, deliberately cheerful as I knew it would annoy him the most. My voice echoed unnaturally in the dank surroundings. "At least neither of us have to deal with Stalker Bitch and the Walking Gut."

Envy seemed to choke on his own spit this time, and I watched with an absurd false grin and innocently wide eyes as he hacked through his laugh. An unnecessarily hard hit to my shoulder was my reward for making him laugh, and I grimaced, stumbling. "You really hate her guts, don't you?"

My expression immediately closed and I hunched down. "With every fiber of this fabricated being," I growled.

His grin turned feral, a wolf sensing weakness. "And yet you remain at her beck and call. How that must irk you, to be her little bitch. Tell me, has she pinned you down yet? Sucked out your soul while she fu–"

"Don't," I snarled, rounding on him. He looked on, amused and not the least bit cowed as I advanced. "Don't even joke about that. I can't even–" My body seized in a violent shudder, stomach roiling even though I hadn't put anything in it in I couldn't remember how long. Envy's mocking laughter was the only thing that kept me from doubling over. "If she didn't have that _goddamned_ locket, if she wasn't going to throw me into that _place_ again, I would–"

Envy's guffaw cut me off. "You–you think _she_ could–Oh god, this is rich!" I glared, but it only seemed to set him off anew.

"What?" I snarled. Of _course_ he though my possible imprisonment was funny. He would probably get a kick out of it to send me there himself.

But his cackles didn't cease, the creature nearly doubling over on himself in mirth. "You-you think–ha!" He inhaled deeply as my agitation grew, opening his eyes wide into a cruel grin. "Well, if you don't know, then _I'm_ not going to tell you. Although~"

"What? What is it?" I threw my hands in the air, just about at the end of my rope. This bastard knew something, didn't he? I thought furiously about what I said, but nothing was coming to mind.

"You finding out could be entertaining, for me at least…"

"Find. Out. _What?"_

"What's in it for me?"

My jaw snapped shut, thrown. Envy crossed his arms expectantly, smile sharp in the semi darkness. "...What do you want?", I mumbled against my better judgement. By the look on his face, I really didn't think I wanted to know.

Glee painted Envy in ugly shades, I decided. I would much rather he never smiled in my direction again. "Oh, I'll have to think about it," he sing-songed.

Great. Like I needed another homunculus to control me.

"Why do you even follow these people, anyway? You clearly hate them."

The grin faded right off Envy's face, only to be replaced by a scowl. Something flashed behind that gaze, something I didn't recognize, but it was gone before I could suss it out. The grin returned, cloying like the rot of decomposing flesh. "For the chaos," he purred.

I shivered, swallowing thickly. "Really? That's all?"

"Is that all, he says," Envy sneered. "Yes, that is all. All those filthy humans, living their pathetic little lives like vermin, I like to watch them scurry about like the worthless animals they are." His voice lifted in passion, and it took everything I had not to step back. "I want to make them _bleed."_

His eyes slid up and down my body, sleazy and filled with greed. I could feel the gaze slide against my soul like the slime of oil against water and in it was a promise of the pain he so clearly wanted to inflict. I didn't think for a second that it was specific to me. The way he spoke of the suffering of others, as if it brought him physical pleasure...What did he have against humans? What could anyone have done to this creature to inspire such hatred?

I decided it didn't matter. What did though, was that his goal didn't seem to be aligned with the others, and that was something I could use.

"Well then," I whispered. I did nothing to hide the disgust in my tone, the loathing I felt for this creature, nor the desire to destroy him where he stood. I let all of the vitrole fill my voice without restraint, because I was certain he didn't care one iota about my opinion. He only wanted one thing, and that was something I could deliver. I tilted my head. "I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

Envy bared his teeth and I swallowed down the thrill of fear at the inhuman gesture. "What could _you_ possibly offer me?"

The decision hung by a thin thread of chance, no more than a spiderweb fluttering in the breeze to stand as a barrier between me and the threat of spectacular failure. I needed to take a risk, and it all hinged on one thing: did Envy care if Father's plan succeeded?

I was going to guess no. If anything, he didn't seem to give any fucks, as long as he got his excitement, in whatever sick fashion that may be. I would stop him. I would stop them all. But for now, I needed to make a deal with the devil.

"What you want," I said, more evenly than I expected. "Chaos."

Envy threw his head back and laughed. And laughed. It echoed off the walls, grated at my ears and ate at my heart with biting percussions. "You think you could give me that? How, little bitch? You can't do shit with that leash around your neck."

I stepped closer, close enough that I could smell his fetid breath and feel the rot of his soul. "Then release me. You know something." When I only got a smug grin in response, I growled, speaking low. "I want Lust at my feet begging for death. I want her to _scream_ as I tear out her heart and then I want to make her _watch_ as I do it over and over and over again until her lives _run out_."

"Tempting," Envy mused, running a fine finger down his pale face. "I do so hate Lust. I don't see how that benefits me, though. Try harder."

I smiled mischievously. "Oh, you know. I just want to cause a little _trouble_. Who knows how long Father's plan will take. It must be so boring, being at his beck and call all the time, _little bitch._ " My smile disappeared and I grabbed his arm before the temper I can see flashing behind his eyes derailed us again. "You set me free, and I will set _you_ free."

We stand at a stalemate for several seconds, neither willing to move. I can see the cogs turning behind his blank rouges, the desire, the hatred all warring with the impatience he had presented effervescently since I first laid eyes on him. Because he was just like me, a prisoner to Father's plans. Our shared captivity would be what bound us. "You don't have the power to do that," he said finally, bitterly, and there was a flash of something in the twitch of his lips that didn't seem like anything I'd seen from him before, hinting at emotion below the surface of the arrogance and nastiness he portrayed. I blinked, not sure exactly what it was I saw, but filing it away for later.

"Maybe not now," I shot back swiftly. "But now there are two of us. I would say the odds have improved in your favor considerably, wouldn't you?"

Slowly, a nasty glee ate Envy's features until all I could see of him was the gleaming whites of his sharpened canines. "You make a fine point, my new friend." They way the words left his discordant throat and filtered through the dank air, full of promise and malice, had me shaking in my boots. But I held my ground even as he pulled me close and whispered in my ear, breath foul enough to burn my nose hairs.

But it was nothing compared to the words he said. My eyes widened and my breath stopped, heart pounding an uneven stacotto against my aching ribcage as he relayed a secret to me, one Lust hadn't felt the need to mention, had kept to herself in order to retain power over me.

One that would set me free.

"Lust can't send you to the Infinity. Only Father can."

-o0o-

Through the streets of Central I ran, wind ripping at my hair and clothes even as the pouring rain drenched me in stinging waves. I reveled in the discomfort, elation fueling my steps. Because I was free.

Not in the sense that I in any form was able to escape my situation entirely. I had to stay on the downlow beneath Father's thumb until I could find a way to take him down. But now I had an ally. Now, I had freedom from the oppressive chokehold of that insufferable whore. She may have still had the locket, and I may not be able to escape her entirely, but she had lost that vital hold on me that had me doing her bidding without question. No longer in the Infinity, I had slowly been released from her spell, her 'programming'.

And now I knew she couldn't send me back.

I threw back my head and laughed, the rumbling of my voice drowned out in the patter of rain and wind pattering against my surroundings in glittering waves in the night.

Right now I couldn't bring myself to think about what it meant to be on Envy's side, or what this deal would cost, because I had my ticket to tearing them all apart, and I reveled in it with vicious glee. The thinking, the plotting and planning would come later. At this moment in time, I thought of nothing but the wind beneath my wings and the rain washing away the filth on my body and cleansing some of the pain in my soul.

Envy had let me leave. Just like that. With a wide grin and a wave, he set me off with these final words: "Remember, brat. You owe me. If you think for one second that you can escape them without my help, you've got another thing coming."

"Likewise," I sneered, but clasped his hand in agreement nonetheless. And then I was gone, finding the nearest exit to the outside world and breathing the free air for the first time in ages, Envy's crude laughter fading into the darkness I left behind.

I would need to go back. Soon. But there was something I needed to do first.

I had some idea where I emerged, taking in the dim surroundings with my enhanced vision. I ended up close to Central Command, the white gleaming walkways and buildings bright as day to me in the darkness, even obscured as they were by the dense moisture in the air. That the homunculi had their den right beneath the feet of the military was not my concern at the moment so much as the convenience that their location afforded me. I knew exactly where my next destination lied, the photo burning a hole in my chest.

My heart soared at the thought of finally seeing Roy again. I had so much to tell him, so much to convey. I had to tell him about Hughes, that he would be okay. I had to tell him about his message. I had to tell him about the Fuhrer, and Ross, and that Ed and Al were in danger–

I slowed, nearing my destination, the streets as familiar to me as the back of my hand with as much time as I spent here. I gazed up at the house where I knew Roy slept, so many emotions eating at me and roiling inside on the wings of a thousand butterflies.

I had to tell him how I felt.

I placed my hand over my heart, the crumpled and no doubt ruined photo filling me with strength. He wouldn't accept me. I knew that. We were too different, and this body...well, for starters it was male. And not human. But still, even though the rejection would sting, I would go through with it. If I had learned anything in the past few years in this hellish world, it was that life was too hard, too fragile to let this go. And I _needed_ this, _needed_ him to know how much he meant to me. Before it was too late.

I took a long, deep breath. And took a step forward.

Before I could take one more step, the door opened on its own and Roy Mustang emerged. I froze, shock holding me in place more effectively than any shackles.

Black eyes gazed out of a stony face, expression carved out of marble as Roy walked slowly into the street light. His hair immediately plastered down in the rain, onyx locks in sharp contrast to his pale skin and clothes darkening with moisture. Deep shadows rested beneath bottomless eyes that narrowed as they locked on to my suddenly trembling person.

I flinched badly and gasped, tears filling my eyes as his arm slowly raised.

No. He _can't_ _._ Not Roy. He can't truly believe I betrayed him. Roy, of all people, the man who believed in me from the start, who knew my heart and shared his pain with me, my best friend.

But there was no denying the look in his eyes, the complete lack of warmth and familiarity that I had come to love. There was no denying the harsh line of his lips, not brightened with a laugh or that damnable smirk or the genuine soft curve that only came out in certain, beautiful unguarded moments, but strained with a grimace of anger.

There was no denying the gun pointed at my breaking heart.

-o0o-

AN:

Alex has found an unexpected ally. How fun! And oh my, poor Roy is not happy to see him.

Rant. Feel free to skip if it doesn't apply to you. You know who you are.

I'm still alive! Well, you guys know that if you've been following my FFXV story Hack. If so, I'm so glad you support my work! But. This story. I've been stuck on it for a while. Part of that is just that I felt burnt out and needed a change of pace. The other part is...well. I guess I just realized that it was going in a direction that I knew I would get hatred for. I received some very aggressive PMs (from users I've blocked now) that tore me apart pretty badly. I mean, I know that I shouldn't let that stuff get to me, and I didn't really in the sense that I'm validating their opinions or changing my work to suit their whims. But it did make me realize something. I feel like I've been writing this story for my viewers, and while I love the idea that you guys are enjoying this, it's been holding me back creatively worrying too much about what other people think. I know that I'll probably get some heat from some that have been with this story from the beginning, and I'll definitely lose some peeps, but I want to remind everyone that I'm doing this for free. I don't have to share it, I don't have to write for anyone but myself, and it is rated M for a reason.

Realizing that, my writer's block on this story is FINALLY over :)

Please, if you love this story, leave me a kind note. I could use all the support I can get. If you don't like it, don't bother leaving a review. The fact that you got this far and hated it enough to yell at me is ridiculous. If it's not your cup of tea, DON'T READ IT. Thanks.

Rant over.

That being said, thanks everyone who's given me support :D Your comments make my day and I can't tell you how much it makes me smile when I read through them, which I do before I start every new chapter and it inspires me like nothing else. If my story made you smile half as much as those comments did me, then XD!

Next Chapter: Will their broken hearts be mended, or is Alex's apparent betrayal a rift between them that will never heal?


	19. Hope

Roy stared down the barrel of his pistol, heart pounding so hard he could practically feel his veins widening and contracting with the adrenaline spiked blood pumping through him, tearing at him like shards of glass. It was by sheer force of will that he kept a steady hand and face impassive, though he could feel the grimace eating at his expression whether he liked it or not. There was no hiding the anger he couldn't contain, and it _burned_ him, made his finger tremble against the trigger.

Hughes' broken visage blinded him for a moment, and he almost did it, almost activated the weapon and tore into the traitor until he was nothing more than a bloody smear on the wall. The only thing that would be more satisfying would be if it hadn't been _goddam_ raining and he had his gloves on so he could _incinerate_ him.

The only thing–the _only_ thing–holding him back from doing just that was the fact that it was Alex.

If ever there was a match in Mustang's regard to Hughes, it would be him. The young man who Roy shared so much of himself with, who had wormed his way into his life more quickly and insistently than anyone else Roy had ever met, who he cared for so inexplicably deeply it hurt when he'd been taken. Alex, who had betrayed Roy so terribly that the older man couldn't possibly imagine being alright again, couldn't fathom his chest without the awful pain eating away at him anymore.

He was just. There. Out of nowhere. After all this time, the sleepless nights, the aching absence, the pain on every face of those who loved him–Alex had appeared from the darkness of the street like he'd never been gone. And now here he stood, healthy and hale as if the events of Lab Five, as if _Hughes,_ hadn't happened. As if he were still welcome in Roy's home after _what he did._

"Roy," Alex croaked, hands pressed against his chest as if mortally wounded, face contorted in shock. His voice was low, deeper than Roy had ever heard it and it sounded alien to Roy's ears, as alien as his unfamiliar form. Rain streamed down his face and clung to his black clothes and the bare skin of his shoulders. Roy couldn't tell if the water on his face was from tears or the pouring rain, nor did he care.

"Give me," Roy growled, vicious as another surge of rage boiled his blood, "one good reason why I shouldn't blow your head off where you stand for what you did to Hughes, _homunculus."_

Alex stumbled back with a gasp, trembling from some force Mustang couldn't see, as if physically repulsed by Roy's fury. Or perhaps it was fear. Good. He _should_ be afraid!

The intensity of the violence he felt stunned Roy. He had thought he'd been doing well, holding back the floodgates of his fear for Hughes, but it had been so _hard_ to focus on the vital tasks before him rather than succumbing to the pain. He'd been a mess, was _still_ a mess without him. There wasn't anyone else in this world he'd loved more–still loves, dammit, he's not dead–and he had always known how heavily he relied on Hughes' support and friendship. It was as if Mustang was the one broken on that slab, felt as broken as he had after the war before Hughes had saved him from himself.

There was no-one he'd opened up to more, who knew him as well. No one except the man standing before him.

The day before he had told his team, and believed it then, that they suspected that Alex was being held against his will by the homunculi. But as the day wore on and the reality of Hughes' state sank in, Roy could feel the darkness growing within him, was finding it harder and harder to deny what he was starting to suspect. Alex, the very man they had been looking for to the point of exhaustion, the man who may be responsible for _breaking_ Roy's dearest friend, just _showed up_. That was the final straw that set Roy's shock and confusion and hurt to a boil of hot acid that burned him from the inside out, and Alex made a compelling target as the outlet for the violence ripping Roy's insides apart.

Hughes' face was in the forefront of his mind and he forgot about how much he'd missed Alex, forgot about how much he had wanted to find him, how his brothers had been worried desperately for him. He forgot everything but the sensation of misplaced revenge. The gun in his hand trembled.

"Why shouldn't I?" Roy hissed.

Alex hunched over himself where he stood, long hair falling over his face in dark golden strands, hiding his expression. He breathed deeply in exertion or some strong emotion that Mustang couldn't discern from where he stood. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, red eyes reflecting the dim streetlight demonically, sharp features contrasting starkly with the softness of the boy Mustang remembered. But the expression on his face was the farthest from demonic it could get. Vulnerable, despaired, it was the expression of a man broken.

Roy hesitated, hand shifting the lightest bit. Alex looked so different, so much more menacing in the light of his supposed crimes, but...that expression was familiar. Familiar as their conversations in the late nights where Alex shared with Roy his story as his only confident in this world, the only one who he trusted with the truth. Where insomnia and nightmares pulled at Roy and they passed the long hours of the night talking until the older man was finally able to find rest. Mustang had soothed that very look–a look that should have never been on one who looked so young but belied the old soul within–from Alex again and again in their friendship and it looked as out of place on is fair face now just as it did then.

Though Roy's actions would have been imperceptible, the change in Alex was immediate and dramatic. Alex's face shifted, hope sparkling dimly in his eyes. Roy grimaced, suspicion tightening his chest, but whatever Alex must have sensed, it compelled him to speak.

"Because," he said huskily, and Roy was strongly reminded of Edward, as if the boy were standing right there instead of his misplaced brother. "If you kill me," he cradled his hand over his heart, face softening as if he held his own child. "Hughes dies."

Roy's heart stuttered in shock, swelling into his lungs till he could barely breathe. "What?" he whispered.

"I have him, Roy." Alex smiled tremulously. "He's right here. I can save him."

Slowly, Roy lowered his gun, anger scattering like dust in the wind, a painful surge of hope rushing in to fill the aching space left behind. "What do you mean?" The realization froze him. Hughes' wasn't broken? He could have him back?

Alex's smile wavered. "Oh Roy. I have so much to t-tell you." His face crumpled and he let out a sob, a breathless, choking gasp that had Mustang's gun falling from numb fingers to clatter on the ground. It was as if a spell he'd been under for the past two days, no, the past couple weeks, broke and he could see clearly again. What was he _doing?_

 _Alex._ He was _here._

He strode the long yards between them and wrapped his arms around the young man's shoulders, a whole new set of emotions overtaking him like a soothing wash of cold, cold blue.

 _Relief._

Alex immediately curled against his chest with a wail, burying his face in Roy's neck, shoulders shaking with the release of tension and practically melting into Roy's support. Roy dimly noted how much taller he seemed, how much wider his shoulders. It couldn't be possible in the short amount of time apart, but there was no denying that he had grown to stand almost as tall as Roy himself. But he pushed down the questions, the fear, and just let himself have this. Just let himself _breathe_ , the toxic knot in his chest smoothing incrementally until his soul no longer looked so unrecognizable.

Soon enough Alex's cries died down until he merely stood against Roy, the occasional shiver quaking his body. Gently, Roy pulled away, aching when Alex tried to follow him with a small noise of distress, but coaxing him to stand on his own. The rain pattered around them, picking up in intensity and Roy shivered, reminded of his state of undress. His hands tightened around Alex's arms, the man automatically leaning into him. He still couldn't believe it. After all that searching, Alex was _here_.

Cold. Soaking wet.

"Come on," he said gently, coming back to himself and stepping away. "Let's get dried off." Alex nodded, refusing to look up from the ground as he followed Roy into the house.

Roy quietly shut the door behind them, cutting out the pattering of rain and throwing them into darkness. He walked past Alex's frozen form into the living room, lifting his ignition glove from his side table. With a snap, the room was thrown into a soft light, fireplace lighting with a puff of heat. Roy shivered violently in the wash of warmth and turned to find Alex still standing in the doorway, red rimmed eyes wide and gaze far away as he examined the room.

"Aren't you coming in?"

Alex took several seconds to meet his eyes. When he did, it seemed like he was seeing Roy after years away, like he had never expected to see him again. With a slow nod, he stepped into the room, accepting the towel Roy handed him.

Roy took a minute of silence to really observe him, comparing Alex against his memory. So much had changed. They really had a lot to discuss.

But not yet. Roy waited until Alex had finished drying himself before guiding him the chair adjacent to the fire, and he was struck almost dizzy by the symmetry of the situation. It almost felt wrong for Alex to be in his usual spot after everything that happened. It seemed Alex had the same thought, because his eyes were filling with tears again. But he didn't let them fall, just stared into the fire and placed his hand over his heart, as if drawing strength from the gesture. While he stared at the fire, Roy stared at him, noticing the crimson splash against his neck that hadn't been there before, to the sharp line of his jaw, the damp golden hairs that clung to his brow…

Roy pulled his gaze away, walking to his liquor cabinet and pouring both of them a drink. Truth knows they both needed it. He placed a glass of ambre liquid in front of Alex before taking his usual seat. He took a deep breath.

"Alex. What happened?"

Alex let out a derisive laugh, devoid of humor. "That...is a loaded question. Where do I even begin?"

Roy shrugged, feeling rather empty after all of the strong emotions that had been tearing him apart before. "How about from Lab Five?"

Something dark flashed in Alex's gaze before smoothing into a wistful look. "Wow. That was so long ago…"

"It certainly feels like it," Mustang agreed, thinking back to all the long nights, the frantic rushes so many impossible tasks that need to be done _now_ only to leave him bereft with long hours of impotent worry.

Alex shook his head. "No, I don't mean it figuratively. For me, it's been...Hell, I don't even know." When Roy frowned in confusion, he elaborated. "Lab Five was a trap. One second I was fighting Lust, the next I was leaping at Edward to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. I was...a little too late. The Gate pulled me in."

"Edward told me," Roy said softly. "What did you see?"

Alex's lips twitched in dark humor, eyes glimmering with meaning as he looked at Roy, and the man felt his heart clench in a quiet dread. "You know what I saw." Mustang closed his eyes briefly, nodding. They had suspected, had talked about it many times. To have it confirmed though...it must have been terrible. He wanted to reach out, to say–something. But Alex wouldn't let him, continuing swiftly as if to brush the matter away. Roy pursed his lips. They would need to talk about this, but it didn't seem like Alex was ready. So he let him speak.

"They put me in what they call an Infinity. Apparently it's the space that holds the Gate in humans. Only, I don't have one." Alex's brow furrowed, haunted. He took a shuddering breath before continuing. "Time passes more slowly there. I estimate I was in there anywhere between six months to a year."

"That's an awful big time gap. You couldn't tell?"

Alex's voice trembled. "No. There's nothing in there Roy. Nothing. It _broke_ me." He rubbed at the chair beneath him, as if to make sure it was still there. It seemed compulsive, and Roy didn't even think he knew he was doing it. He had the strong urge to go over there and touch Alex, to pull him out of whatever terrible memory seemed to be plaguing him. But he didn't need to because Alex shook it off forcefully. "They released me once I agreed to join them."

Roy gaped, taking that in. he couldn't imagine what Alex described to him. He'd read accounts from those who witnessed the Gate of Truth. They wrote of a white plane where nothing existed but themselves and the Gate. If Alex didn't have one…

He had so many questions. What had he done during that time? What had been done to him? What did he mean by _break_ _?_ But something in the painful set of the blonde man's jaw held the floodgates of inquiries back. "You agreed to join them?" Roy said instead. Unease flitted through him, almost startling in the numbness. Alex flinched, looking at Roy with wide eyes. Again, Mustang wondered if he was able to read his mind, if his power had grown along with his body.

"I didn't think I had a choice!" Alex exclaimed pleadingly, fear coloring his tone as if Roy would attack him. To be fair, he had been about to not too long ago. "You don't know what she _did_ to me, Roy! How she poisoned my mind with lies, how she was the only contact with the outside world, how her voice was the only thing I heard, her body the only thing I could _feel–_ _"_ Alex cut himself off, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, eyes tightly shut.

Alarm spiked through Roy, mouth dropping open in horror as he watched Alex cling to himself. What he was describing was more than psychological and physical abuse. It was sensory deprivation, _programming_ _._ He had heard of this form of torture before, it was one of the many senior officers had to prepare for, had to train to withstand. But that training didn't last longer than a week, and it was _unbearable._ To have endured that for the amount of time Alex described was nothing short of horrifying. Roy wondered how Alex could possibly be sane. But then had to wonder if he was. You don't just come out of something like that overnight...He examined Alex's fetal position with sharp eyes, scanning for signs of abuse though he knew there wouldn't be any. There wouldn't need to be though, it was painted in every tense line of the young man's body.

And it didn't look like he would come out of it any time soon. Roy would need to tread carefully, not wanting to upset Alex further, but he needed to know the extent. Standing, he walked slowly over to Alex's huddled form and crouched down in front of him. He placed a gentle hand on Alex's shoulder, and Alex flinched tellingly.

"Alex," Roy intoned grimly. "What did she say?"

"...Lies," Alex whispered. "She tried to poison me against you and my brothers. After a while I–I believed her."

"And do you believe her now?"

Alex hesitated, shoulders trembling, before he shook his head. Inwardly, Roy sighed in relief. "And what about...physically? Did she…" He couldn't even finish the question, disgust and loathing of the idea rising in him, a sickly hot green.

Alex tensed, and Roy braced himself, preparing the worst. But then, slowly, Alex shook his head again. His eyes peeked out above his knees. "I don't remember everything. It's all kind of a blur now...but she just–touched me. Even in my weakest state I never let her get that far." And the last statement was bitter, but satisfaction colored his tone, as if that denial was the sweetest revenge.

Roy let out the breath he had been holding. "Good. That's–good." He rubbed Alex's arms unconsciously, oblivious in his unease to the intimacy of the gesture. Alex lifted his head and watched his hand, drawing one of his pink lips between white teeth. "But you're hear now, you're safe. It's over."

Alex looked up, startled, before something in his demeanor sent a thrill of alarm through Roy. "No, it isn't. I have to go back."

Mustang stood abruptly, snatching his hand back. "Are you saying," he said in disbelief, "that you really have joined their side?"

"NO!" Alex shouted, jumping to his feet as well and shaking his head rapidly. "No, I haven't, please believe me!"

Roy was unmoved, cold. "Explain." He stiffly sat back down in his own seat, and Alex hesitantly followed suit. Roy spasmodically clenched his hand, the cloth of his ignition glove scratching at his skin. He didn't think Alex would try to run, but he would keep him here forcibly if he had to. He was not going to disappear again.

"I need to stay with them. I want to _tear them apart."_ Alex's words dripped with vitrole and terrible bitterness, voice dropping into a deep growl in his anger. Roy nearly shivered, reminded that Alex wasn't human with the animalistic sound. But then his shoulders eased, voice assuming a more normal tone. "I _need_ to take these guys down. I need to make sure they can never hurt my brothers or anyone I love again."

Mustang shook his head in denial. "No. You can do that from here."

"You know as well as I do that having me on the inside will–"

"No."

"Roy. They think they can control me."

Mustang banged his hand on the table. "I don't care!" Alex fell silent, shocked. "Do you have any idea," he started, "what your family has been through since you were taken?" What _I've_ been through, he didn't say. He didn't want Alex to go back to those monsters. Not now that he knows what he's been put through at their hands. More than that, he didn't want to lose another person he cared for, dammit! He was too raw, too pained after Hughes.

"...They'll understand."

"Like hell!" Roy snapped, but Alex's jaw remained set, stubborn.

"I'm going back." His tone was final. Roy rubbed his fingers together, on the brink of throwing himself at the younger man to force him to stay before his senses returned in a disappointed rush. No. He couldn't fight him. Alex was practically immortal now, and he would only give away that he was here if he did, along with destroying half the city. He deflated, closing his eyes in defeat.

"Oh, Roy," Alex breathed, "I don't want to fight you." And Mustang could see it in his rouge gaze. He looked so tired, so sad, the fire reflecting softly off the drawn angles of his face, dark bags beneath red rimmed eyes. Mustang let out a deep, long breath.

"You mentioned," he changed the subject, speaking slowly. "That you could save Hughes."

Immediately, the young man's visage brightened, eyes lightened with optimism. "Yes. I can."

And there was that treacherous feeling of hope again. Mustang shied from it, remembering the damage his best friend endured. How? "How?"

Alex smiled. "You remember my ability? Well, when the philosopher's stone completed me, I guess it fully developed. The homunculi wanted me to kill him, but I convinced them that I could silence him instead." He shifted uncomfortably, smile falling a bit. "I kind of...took a piece of his soul. His courage. But–" he lifted his hands placatingly at the horrified expression on Mustang's face, "it's right here, in me! I can return it. I think."

"You _think?"_

Alex's jaw clenched, determination shining brightly. "No. I know I can. I just have to get close enough."

Something in Roy seemed to break at that. He looked away desperately, trying to hide it, but an indrawn breath from across the room let him know that Alex wasn't fooled. He laughed humorlessly. "Developed, huh?"

"...Yeah. I can feel your emotions from all the way over here if they're strong enough."

Mustang didn't know if he liked that, but he was too relieved to care. Alex could help Hughes. There was hope.

"It was you, wasn't it? The one who fought Scar."

Alex huffed, leaning back in his chair, and startlingly normal gesture that felt out of place amidst all the drama. Roy couldn't help an amused twitch of his lips, easing just slightly at the familiar quirk. Perhaps Alex wasn't that different after all. The core of him seemed to be intact, and that warmed Roy more than words could say. "Oh man, I have so much to tell you! Yeah, it was me. That's when I sort of discovered my little ability." He tapped his chest. "I stole his rage. And it's not easy to manage, let me tell you."

Mustang grunted, a small laugh. "So tell me then. What have you learned?"

Alex grinned, sharp canines gleaming in the firelight. "You got a pen?"

Mustang nodded, grabbing a small book from his side table. Like every alchemist worth his salt, he carried a journal to write down his stray thoughts. In code of course. Couldn't have anyone stealing his secrets. He handed it over with a pen, and Alex flipped through it curiously, squinting at the illegible handwriting and obscure drawings before finding a blank page and pressing it against the table between them.

"This," he said, drawing a circle across two pages at once, pen bumping against the gap messily, "is Amestris."

Mustang's heart jumped in recognition. A map. Hughes had learned something from a map, had tried to leave a message. Could it be? Had Alex somehow gotten the message when he attacked him?

Alex's hand moved rapidly, drawing little dots along the circle's edge before scrawling sloppily next to them. Names of cities, Roy realized. And numbers. Pink lips moved silently as he muttered to himself. Every once in a while, his pen would hesitate, thin brow furrowing in concentration, before shakily writing once more. A bead of sweat trickled down his jaw and neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt, Mustang's dark eyes following it unconsciously as he waited. "Okay," Alex finally sighed, mentally fatigued. He leaned back. "Okay, I think that's right. Good thing I got it to you so soon, I was beginning to forget."

The image was picked up and examined intently. Wordlessly, Roy held out a hand, feeling the pen pressed into it. Deftly, he corrected a few dates that were a bit off until a clear picture appeared. The question was, why? Why did Hughes write down the dates of the campaigns along the border? It was common knowledge. It must have been important though, or he wouldn't have dedicated his last moments to it…

"Do you know what it means?" Alex asked after several minutes of silence.

Reluctantly, Roy shook his head. "No. They're the dates of wars Amestris has waged along its border, but I don't know how that's relevant." His eyes lingered on the four little numbers scrawled next to a little dot in the east, desert sands and fire haunting his memories.

"But that can't be right." Alex muttered, frustrated. "It has to be significant, it _has_ to be. Hughes wouldn't–"

"No, he wouldn't. I'll take this to Barret, he may know what it means. He was with him the night Hughes was attacked." Mustang didn't take his eyes off the image, deep in thought. Dimly, he was aware that Alex continued speaking.

"There's more. The Fuhrer is one of them."

That got Mustang's attention. "What?" When Alex only remained silent in confirmation, Mustang carded his hands together, giving him his undivided attention. "Tell me what you know."

For the next hour, Alex told him everything he could remember. How many homunculi there were, the location of their base, Father, the few details of their plan he could glean. The more he spoke, the more grim Mustang became, until finally Alex fell silent, leaning against the back of the chair in exhaustion.

"You're right," Mustang finally said reluctantly. "You need to go back." This situation was much more dire than he had ever imagined. Whatever their ultimate goal was, he needed someone on the inside. Even if it caused him physical pain to do so. He dropped his head in his hands, blocking out the world until all he could focus on was continuing to breathe. He felt the weight of the world settle heavily on his shoulders.

"Hey," Alex said gently, and suddenly he was there, body heat radiating warm against Mustang's front. Roy felt soft hands gently card through his hair and he fell still, surprised. "It'll be okay. We'll figure this out." His nails scratched against Roy's scalp, raising gooseflesh along his arms and the intimate gesture was surprisingly comforting.

"How can you say that?" Roy sighed, leaning into the touch. The hand stilled momentarily before continuing its ministrations. "The world is at war, and you have to return to the creatures that _tortured_ you. And Hughes is–" he swallowed.

"...Hughes will get better. I promise."

Roy smiled a little, but it fell off his face an instant later. "You said you never let that woman get far. Does that mean she was trying?" He looked up earnestly, grabbing the hand that stroked him and gripping it tightly. Alex stared at him with wide eyes, mere inches away. His cheeks flushed with warmth, lips parted in surprise, and Mustang didn't know what the _hell_ he was doing, but it didn't feel wrong. He pressed the hand to his face, waiting. The unspoken question fell like a weight, heavy and insistent on the tentative air between them.

"I won't ever give in to her. Not willingly." The hand in his twitched, and Alex's eyes glimmered with determination.

"And if she takes what she wants?" Roy insisted.

"I won't let her."

"How can you be so sure? What if–"

A soft pair of lips over his stunned Roy into silence. It was brief, only lasting a couple seconds, but felt like it went on forever, shook Roy at his roots until he trembled with it. Alex pulled back softly, brushing a thumb against Roy's cheek, staring with glittering rouge eyes that had so frightened Roy before, but now looked anything but disturbing. "I won't let her, not ever. Because there's only one person who can touch me." Not breaking eye contact from the stunned man, he pulled something from his shirt and pressed it into the slackened hand resting against Roy's knee. Mustang's fingers instinctively curled around it, but he couldn't bring himself to break eye contact from the man in front of him.

"I need to go now," Alex said when Roy didn't speak. There was something heartbroken in his eyes as he gazed at Roy's shocked face, but he seemed lighter somehow, like a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Roy's vision blurred, too many emotions to process paralyzing him, more exhausted than he thought he'd ever felt. "I'll return soon, and we'll figure out what to do about Hughes. Keep him safe until then?" Roy nodded numbly.

With one last sad smile, and a light brush against Roy's cheek, Alex turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

It was only some time later that Roy was finally able to move, uncurling his hand and staring down at the barely legible photo of him and Nina.

-o0o-

AN:

This is it guys. Divergence has happened. Mustang now has way more knowledge much earlier than he did in the series. Envy has thrown in his dubious allegiance with Empathy and a coup is imminent. Hughes is alive and will be a player in the upcoming war. How will it play out? Will Empathy's alliance grow? Will Mustang get the jump on the Fuhrer? All I know is, it's going to be EPIC.

This chapter was fun to write, I just adore writing from Mustang's perspective. It felt appropriate since we already know how Alex feels. I really loved the way Mustang was depicted after the Ishvalan war and the bromance between him and Hughes. This is how I think he would react to his best friend getting hurt by someone he cares about :). My poor confused baby!

Thanks guys. Really. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Next Chapter: Alphonse gets kidnapped. His kidnappers regret it.


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